It's 3 a.m. and I just got back from the Collegian office.

I've been out of my room since my nine o'clock class. My roommate, who I haven't really seen awake in about two days, is in bed sound asleep.

The entire hall is quiet. I don't even realize that I'm still clutching onto pieces of senate legislation from its meeting earlier in the evening. A bright green post-it covered with USG by-laws stuck to my leg completes the look. Welcome to what is becoming my world.

And now, rather than going to sleep, (you know you're tired when the Uni-Mart guy selling you coffee recommends taking a nap) I have to write this column, which seemed like a great idea when I agreed to do it about two weeks ago.

So now I'm sitting at my computer, realizing that for the fifth straight day in a row I've maintained a most unhealthy journalistic diet of coffee, diet coke, and vending machine pretzels, never mind the wood that must be accumulating in my stomach due to years of biting on pencils while writing. I'm wondering what exactly I'm doing with my time.

Throughout the course of a year, people reflect on their lives, on the mistakes they've made, on the progresses they hope to achieve, be it New Year's Eve, birthdays, graduations, promotions, or when they're just exhausted and overworked and must make a change. I think I'm at that point. Now, please don't misunderstand. I love what I do. I love the people I work with and am humbled by the opportunities and responsibilities that this newspaper has generously entrusted me with.

In fact, during tonight's especially cold walk home from the office I realized that I could write for the rest of my life and be happy. I have nothing to complain about. However, I do have a tendency to overexert myself, to be a perfectionist, to feel tremendous pressure in everything that I commit to. And tonight, maybe this is going to stop.

When you are consumed with your job, it turns into your passion, your purpose, and you become almost too closely identified with it. There needs to be a division, a fine line, or in my case, barbed wire, to separate work and that of what should be in a normal, 19-year-old's personal life. You have to know when to stop, when to discipline yourself not to think about the article you've just written or the calls you're going to receive the next morning. You have to focus and try to look forward to other parts of your day.

So I guess this is what you can call my mid-January resolution —to try and relax, just a little. I'm not even asking for more free time, just the self-restraint to take it easy, to think, to dream, to talk to my roommate and friends, and to even catch a little uninterrupted Sports Center every now and then. After all, nobody puts on his or her tombstone: I wish I spent more time in the office.

Although, being the way I am, tomorrow this little pledge for a brighter future filled with long lazy days and drinks will little pink umbrellas, realistically won't work. My resolution will be forgotten as soon as a story breaks, when all ideas of ESPN and six o'clock dinners are chalked up to idealistic plans brought on by sleep deprivation.

Then again, covering a story, getting the facts, informing people, that is more satisfying for me than any form of down time (yes, Monday Night Football and Audrey Hepburn movies included). So maybe, in retrospect, my daily routine doesn't really need to be drastically altered, just fine-tuned a bit. And I know I'm not the only one who works hard. There are so many people at this campus that put just as much, if not more, time, effort and energy into their jobs. So for all of us, let's just step back and when we can, take a moment. Even if that moment has to be in the office.