the unproductive busy bee

My phone buzzed non-stop for months. Ping, ping, ping — thousands of messages, some serious, some trivial, some outright ridiculous. Then, suddenly — silence.

The South African school calender runs from January to December, and when my matric year ended, so did the noise. I left my class group chats, and for the first time in years, my phone sat silently. I found myself fumbling with all the free time on my hands.

Initially, I didn't notice. My time was consumed by supplemental university applications — essays, interviews, and such. I dissected myself — my strengths, my weaknesses, and my triumphs. I pored over old school projects, replayed conversations in my head, and, when that wasn't enough, I interrogated my family about my childhood quirks.

By January 1st, my interviews were done, my essays submitted. Now, all I had to do was wait.

ping

ping

ping

Three admission offers in quick succession. Suddenly, I was back in the game. I obsessed over university websites, co-op opportunities, and architectural aesthetics to craft the perfect ranking.

ping

Another offer in February. Then — nothing.

The nine months between the South African school calender ending and the Canadian school calender beginning should have been enough to pick up the things I put off during high school — getting my driver's license, writing a book, learning French. Instead, I laid in bed, scrolling through admissions blogs, subreddits and Instagram profiles.

I didn't have too many friends in high school, but I felt like I belonged to a community. We shared our plans, grievances and laughter in group chats. Then the "Prospective Students" pages became my substitute, my way of clinging to community. When I logged off, however, I was confronted by the same nagging dissatisfaction.

I hadn't done anything with all the time in the world.

So, I downloaded Duolingo, and logged out of everything except Google, which kept me "informed." Every morning, I completed five French lessons. Every evening, when my mom came back from work, I’d tell her the news I watched or read — about the Trump administration, soldiers in the DRC, or the latest trend on TikTok (as explained by social commentators like Mina Le).

I thought it was progress. I wasn’t lying in bed all day.

However, I wasn’t moving forward either.

The headlines, analyses, and hot takes, made me feel busy, accomplished even. When I looked up from my screen, however, I realised that everything was the same. I hadn’t written a page, remembered a single useful French phrase, or even gone outside. I wasn’t growing — I was consuming.

Don’t get it twisted — being informed is important. However, knowledge that isn't used is also noise.

So, I started this blog. Writing forced me to articulate my thoughts instead of letting them rot in my brain. Blogging forums have become my new communities, and this fresh sense of purpose has propelled me toward my other goals.

All this is to say: pick up a hobby — maybe it's just what you need.