I may have been one of the very few people that, indeed, stayed in Ithaca over Spring Break. Amongst my silent jealousy of my peers going to Cancun, Puerto Rico or Taiwan, I kept on saying I needed to work (which I did), that I had a million things to get done (I still do) and that staying home would be the best way to get them done soon (yeah, right).

After a week of trying to get work done, I have realized I probably do more work on any normal weekday than I did during this entire deliciously numb, go-to-sleep-at-3-wake-up-for-lunch, silent, introspective break. And I feel okay, without regrets (I know, let’s see what I think when the week really unfolds…). I feel like I needed this numbness.

These past weeks have been hard for me. I guess they have been for all of us. As a person very, very prone to getting sad when it gets cold, the gray days before the suicides were of particular melancholy. Then, the mediatization, the student activism, the sadness, the conversations where I found myself even justifying a jump, arguing I could understand it and getting people scared of what I was saying… And then, two days after Lift Your Spirits, on that Friday that everyone left, two students got shot at the closest thing Mexico has to an Ivy League school. On campus. As I listened to a friend talk about it on a radio show, I cried for hours. I guess I had kept from crying for a while by then, and it all just came out.

The last week has been full of people trying to make sense of death, to try to make life a better thing for all of us in it. I have written songs. I have cried. I have asked and talked and forgot and gotten myself into interesting versions of denial. I stopped eating for about three days, started sleeping at ridiculous schedules. I hung up the phone on my parents a couple of times, feeling there was really no point in letting them know I felt miserable. I felt impotent. I felt a fraud. I felt undeserving.

But then, this break helped me sort all that out. In the midst of my feeling sorry for myself, I suddenly realized (with the help of some amazing friends, and some unexpectedly amazing strangers) that it was fine for me to feel like this. That it was fine not to do anything, or talk to anyone for a couple of days straight. I needed that introspection. I needed hours at a time to do nothing but talk with myself (without doing it out loud. I know it looks weird), be at peace with my own imperfections, find the motivation behind coming back and kicking this semester’s ass.

As it is with many people on campus, we have a dichotomy of those that do not talk a lot combined with the people that are alone too little, that lack the time to think straight, sort things out, find why the hell we’re all here.

I took this time to spend it with myself and see what I found. I think it’s the smartest thing I’ve done this semester, and the one I probably have learned from the most.

Turns out, there are still tons of things I need to discover about me. I discovered I’m nearly not that bad at making up recipes and that my cooking is indeed edible, even something I’d like to eat. I realized I actually like the Killers and a couple other groups I have just been introduced to (Nneka, Neutral Milk Hotel). I also ran into some friends I had not talked to for years. A friend from Spain wrote back and we reminisced about the wonderful times we had together, studying without studying, coming to so many conclusions about life it was a little dizzying. I reconnected and reconciled with my lack of structure. I slept (yes!!!). And slowly, after around four days of doing this, I found myself smiling into empty rooms again. Laughing out loud and dancing while listening to music and washing the dishes. We can always blame the sun, but somehow, I was happy again, after a few days of intellectual rest.

Sometimes we need to let things come as they do. They really do come at you. In the middle of my recovery, I found the grad school I want to go to, adding a layer of motivation to my studying that I am falling in love with.

Other than the fact that this is really fun to write, my point with all this is that even when I have around four papers that I put off writing, even when I know this procrastination is wrong, I need it. I needed to say “stop,” needed to get myself together. I needed to feel happy with what I was doing and, if my process was well executed, now I can probably write each of those papers in far less time than I would before. Because I will be happy with what I’m doing, because I will be inspired and I will love it. For things done like that, who cares about the grade? My passion does not have a letter attached to it.

Do not embrace procrastination if it’s not your style. But do not think there is anything wrong for not achieving all you need the moment you need to.  This is all papers and numbers, after all. Don’t negate the more fleshy parts of your life, those things that hug and smile and love, because of them. Be thankful, be happy, enjoy the sunshine. We’ve got five weeks left and they promise to be even more hellish than before (Orgo, here we come…). Hang in there, and smile all you can along the way.

Florencia Ulloa is a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences. She may be reached at fulloa@cornellsun.com. Innocent Bystander appears alternate Tuesdays this semester.