I woke up with my jaw aching and found the night guard still in its case, right beside the extremely carefully arranged study supplies. So that's where my priorities are, apparently. It eased while I was making breakfast, then at the library I caught my teeth pressed together over a question I hadn't even started answering. I can notice it and unclench, but ten minutes later I'm doing it again. At the gym my legs felt tired in a much less confusing way, because I'd actually asked them to lift something heavy. I skipped the extra set I'd written down. Nothing heroic about that; I wanted enough energy left to carry groceries home.

A classmate got the research placement she'd wanted and I sent a genuinely happy message, then immediately checked what everyone else was doing. Both things can apparently fit inside thirty seconds. I hate the jealous part because she worked for it and hasn't taken anything from me, but knowing that didn't stop the little drop in my stomach. At the market a regular asked whether I'd saved her the softer peaches and I felt useful without having to be impressive first. I nearly told my roommate that as some big revelation, except I don't want to turn a nice Saturday into another assignment about becoming a healthier person.

I've rebuilt my MCAT timetable twice this week without actually finding more hours. The new colours make it look feasible until I include cooking, commuting and the fact that I don't understand every passage on the first try. I'm trying to plan from what I did last week instead of what an imaginary well-rested version of me could do. That version doesn't seem to work Saturdays or call her grandmother. My real schedule needs both. The annoying part is deciding what gets less time, because rearranging boxes lets me avoid saying that something won't be perfect. I haven't settled it. I have at least stopped buying another planner.