I woke up this morning in cold sweat from a dream that I slept through a prelim. Before I had a chance to reassure myself that it was a Monday and it was too early in the day to be sweating, I glanced at the 12 messages that needed responses on my phone, thought of the reading that I had to complete for my 10:10 class, and then felt the pile of laundry that has been sitting at the foot of my bed for the past week. I glanced at the date, only to realize that I had to begin racking my brain for an idea to write about for this column, and then noted the time only to realize that I had a meeting on campus in 15 minutes. As I rushed to try to pop a pimple under my nose and brush my teeth before I headed out the door, it dawned on me: Do I even have time to think? It was a question I asked myself several times last week each time I received a message from the University.