It’s not that I don’t get enough hours of sleep—or worst case scenario, none at all; or my incapability to finish that fantasy novel I’ve been reading for almost 4 months now, or see my favorite series.

It is the time of the year when history practically repeats itself. The time when the access to freedom is temporarily lost. It is when the pressure triples itself, and feels like burning charcoal on your skin. The next two weeks are going to be emotional inferno built on golden priorities, hard work, determination, and self-control. It is going to be a full mental stress; a chain of overlapping deadlines, an unending series of bargaining and arguing. Bodies are put on a physical test pumped by anything that is rich in caffeine, or salt, or sugar. It is the fundamental academic loony bin minus the red marks and bad output.

Two weeks. Two weeks and everything will be changed.

As of the moment, the only thing I could reward myself is a neat nail cut and a warm bath. Nothing else follows. Let’s all welcome this year’s bawal-maging-tao season with a bang.