Welcome to Bucknell, where being “busy” isn’t just a state of being—it’s practically a personality trait. We don’t just have full schedules here; we brag about how overloaded we are. If you’re not sprinting from one commitment to the next, sighing about how “there’s just so much going on,” are you even really living the Bucknell experience?
It’s a culture we’ve mastered. We’ve all turned “I’m so busy” into the ultimate flex. “I have so much to do” usually translates to, “I have one assignment due tomorrow, but I’m going to panic about it for a few hours first, instead of actually starting it.” And when we say, “I literally have no time to eat today,” what we’re actually saying is, “I didn’t plan ahead and now I’m debating whether it’s worth it to eat the Commons’ questionable chicken nuggets or just starve until the next crisis.”
And the emails. Oh, the emails. Bucknell is practically a simulation where the number of unread messages in your inbox is directly correlated to your level of importance. You’ve got six emails waiting for you, all urgently demanding action. One’s from the Career Center about an event you’ll never attend. Another is from the Bucknell Message Center about some irrelevant update that you’re 99% sure will be a repeat of the last email. One is from that club you joined at the Activities Fair without realizing it’s more of a lifetime commitment than a one-time thing. But still—we are overwhelmed. Because we are busy. Very busy.
And then, the true hallmark of Bucknellian busyness: the never-ending battle that is meal scheduling. Here at Bucknell, eating isn’t a simple necessity—it’s an intricate negotiation process. “Lunch?” you text a friend, and suddenly you’re scheduling a “quick bite” like it’s a high-stakes business deal. “I have class until 1:15, but I have a meeting at 2, so maybe we can do 1:30?” By the time you’ve worked it out, it’s 2:30 and the Commons is out of the question. You’re left wondering if maybe your “lunch” should just be a snack from the vending machine while you run between your endless meetings.
Of course, this all would be impossible without the holy grail of Bucknellian organization: Google Calendar. It’s your lifeline, your anchor. If it’s not on the calendar, does it even exist? Need to hang out? Sure, I can fit you in for a “friendship engagement” between my office hours and my existential crisis. Need to sleep? Let me schedule that in as “Sleep (tentative),” because I’m sure that block will get ignored anyway.
But here’s the truth: while we’re all drowning in commitments, pretending to juggle endless responsibilities, it’s not all just performative busyness. We are busy. We’re juggling assignments, meetings, social events, work and probably a laundry list of things we’ve forgotten to do. It’s real stress. And it’s exhausting. We’re running on caffeine, late nights and the occasional panic attack that comes with knowing you have 20 things to do in one hour. It’s stressful and it’s okay to feel that way.
But here’s the catch: we don’t have to keep doing this to ourselves. The truth is, we can take control, even if we’re genuinely busy. Time management is hard, but it’s also a game changer. A few small adjustments—like setting realistic goals, prioritizing tasks and learning to say no—can make all the difference. The busyness we feel is real, but there are strategies that can help us breathe a little easier, even in the chaos. We’re not superheroes. We’re human. And it’s okay to feel overwhelmed—it’s what happens when you’re genuinely engaged and trying to do your best.
So, while Bucknell might often feel like a circus of never-ending tasks, let’s also remember that we can manage it all without losing our minds. The goal isn’t to stop being busy; it’s about making space for what really matters—and finding balance in the madness. We can show up to class without feeling like we’re hanging by a thread. We can tackle our inboxes like functional adults. We can even eat lunch at a normal time if we stop pretending we’re too busy for it.
Yes, we’re busy. But let’s also be kind to ourselves about it. Busyness doesn’t have to define us—but how we manage it can.