There are 168 hours in a week.

I sleep through about 40 of those.

By the guidelines/handbook, my current workload should be 54 hours (20 on thesis, 20 on coursework, 7 hours per TAed course).

Working out takes me around 10 hours.

All the minutia is probably another 10. I shop once a week at most, and most of my cooking devolved into big pots of stew or soup that last me days.

The leftover 54 hours should be my free time then. Hell, let's even high-ball and subtract another 20 for miscellaneous internet stuff, Hubski included. That's still 34 hours, almost exactly five per day, yet I can barely remember when I spared an evening to enjoy a book, you know? But I know where that time goes: work. Good? Maybe. Hell, by my adviser's assessment, I could likely compose the thesis and defend in about two or three semesters from now. Said my stuff is already more advanced than many he'd seen in their fourth year. So the time wasn't wasted, simply made me lose whatever touch I began to develop.

It's dawning on me that I mistook a job for a lifestyle, and this is just stupid enough to have my name smeared all over itself. And it's not really OCD or anything like that, one look at my room should make such notions laughable, but it's far from a surprise to anyone I get excited and obsessive.