The problem with having a small mouth is this: food always ends up all over my face and I often take a bite that’s just the slightest bit too big. As I eat, I like to wait until the end of the meal to clean up my sub-consciousness’s attempt at an edible Pollack; otherwise I’d be brushing off my face more often than putting food in it. My friends reach inner-circle status when I can trust them to check my face after such a meal without my having to ask. Not to say my mouth is so small that I haven’t been caught with my foot in it on more than one occasion, but you get the idea. Success at mealtime is solely dependent on how well I manage my petite-mouth deficiency.
Of course, this is a Minor in Writing blog post and while I’m totally serious about the difficulties that come with a small mouth, I’m not really here to discuss my eating habits. I bite off more than I can chew in every aspect of my life. Be it overbooking my social calendar or convincing myself that I can totally handle an 18-credit semester, my plate usually seems to end up more than full enough. Yet I always somehow seem to pull off that crazy last-minute scramble and everything falls into place right at the last second. As such, I keep taking on more than I should be able to handle; I’ve managed it every time before!
I had just started scheduling my courses for next semester when I decided to take a break and clean out my email inbox. While sorting through potential internship opportunity information and cTools announcement notifications, Molly Bancroft’s reminder of the Peer Writing Consultant program application deadline caught my eye. My interest piqued, I began toying with the idea of applying. Within about twelve hours and after speaking to my MiW and ChemE advisors, I decided to go for it. The application process and program seemed manageable; I was excited to give back to the writing community and aid my peers in their development.
But now I’m feeling swamped. The left side of my brain, the exhausted little ChemE part of me, is not looking forward to pounding out an application this weekend, nor is it excited about an 8:30 a.m. class next semester. But the right side of my brain, the relentless word nerd part of me, insists that the lost sleep and extra credit hours will be worthwhile. My decision making process depends on finding a balance between my two passions: science and written word. I am only afraid of one outweighing the other. At this point, I know I would enjoy becoming a member of the Peer Writing Consultant program. The last hurdle is talking myself into the time and mental commitments against the knowledge that my plate will most probably be too full next year.
I just have to hope that everyone can excuse me next year; it looks as if, more often than not, I’ll be running around with too much food in my mouth.