It’s that time again, the 50-hour work weeks and never-ending to-do lists that go on until March. And my body, my nervous system, remembers it—and I don’t want to do it again. There are other factors playing into my memory of this season last year: moving twice in the fall, missing the sweet, goofy camaraderie of working shifts at Greyhouse, transitioning into full-time work (and a few subsequent transitions in responsibilities), trying to find a place to belong at Campus House, simultaneously my church community and place of work. I know that. I keep reminding myself that this is not…