The rock is made up of:
Not enough yoga classes
Too much grading
Too much confusion with it being November, dark, and 70 degrees
Too much homework
Too much self-doubt with my writing ability on said homework
Not enough confidence that I know my shit when it comes to writing
A messy house
A neglected hound named Gatsby
So, I'm perched under the rock, holding it all up (barely), and vowing that I will never, ever drive myself into the ground like this again.
I wanna yoga. Now.