I can hardly hustle between early morning practice and my first class without facing the question: 

 

“Hey, when will you have some free time to _______?”

 

First things first: time matters. I cling to my time like my mom clings to the leash of our 85-pound black pitbull when he spots a feisty neighborhood squirrel. You could call it a death grip. But how can I help myself? Time is always fleeting. Like our psycho dog, it forges ahead with unstoppable momentum. No amount of tugging will rein it in. We can’t simply let go; our finite human lifelines are tethered to it. Ultimately, it falls on each of us to steer the force of that tug—deciding where to allocate our time, with whom, and toward what pursuits. Choices shape every moment and challenge me to create value daily. So when that familiar question about my future availability arises for the trillionth time, my go-to response hardly captures the weight of my internal struggle.

 

“I’ll check my calendar.” Take a shot every time I say that in a day (*don’t*). My Google Calendar proudly displays all my classes, practices, religious commitments, and social events in color-coded blocks that practically scream, “Look at me – I’m organized!” Its intensity turns heads when I flip open my laptop in class, the sheer number of colorful blocks resembling a Lego advertisement. And while saying “I’ll check my calendar” is a socially acceptable and well-intentioned response, it masks the truth of my chaotic existence. It implies that my calendar is the supreme dictator of my availability, and I’m a helpless soul awaiting an empty time block. Deep down inside, I know my time is malleable and subject to my control alone.

 

 

Let’s be real: people always “have time” for what they want to do. I can always squeeze in hours worth of time scrolling through TikTok, modeling every item of clothes in my closet, or debriefing a 15-second interaction I had with my crush with my best friend. Yet, when it comes to applying for internships, folding my clean laundry, or starting to study for a midterm? Suddenly, I don’t possibly have a spare moment. Spoiler alert: it’s not about “having time.” It’s about making time. And what you choose to make time for is driven by the singular most important thing to you: you. 

 

Such a phenomenon occurred this past weekend. My roommate and I were sitting on our couch, brain-dumping to each other and groaning about how every hour this weekend would have to be spent doing homework. I ran the calculations on the back of a paper napkin and determined that my endless list of assignments and extracurricular responsibilities would cumulate to 27 hours’ worth of work. She suddenly blurted out, “By the way, I’m throwing a surprise party for you tomorrow night. Be prepared for people to be over at 7pm!” In a matter of seconds, I went from having “no time” to do anything but work to having four extra hours worth of time to schedule a haircut, do my make-up, shop for a new dress, and transform our apartment into a super-hype birthday venue. Did all my scheduled “homework time” simply evaporate? No. I just – once again – displayed the selfish nature of humankind. I chose to make time for what I wanted and pushed it onto Future Sutton to figure out how to fit in the homework later.

 

Here is where the math comes in. The extent to which impulsive and fun-loving Present Sutton overrides Future Sutton has its limits. Responsibilities can’t just keep piling up. My tendency to prioritize short-term pleasures over long-term obligations is constrained by what I call my “time cushion.” This cushion is determined by two variables: flexibility and impending doom. Flexibility depends on my practice schedule and homework load, while impending doom hinges on concrete deadlines and the consequences of not completing my tasks. One constant rule about these variables is that they always move in opposing directions. Here are some sample scenarios to illustrate this concept:

 

• If flexibility is low and impending doom is high, I am busy
• If flexibility is high and impending doom is low, I am free 

 

Adhering to these “cushion calculations,” helps ensure I am striking a balance between having fun and also fulfilling obligations. By taking the time to mentally calculate the future impacts of my present decisions, it helps to save Future Sutton from episodes of crippling anxiety. 

 

Last things last: what makes free time…free? Mathematical calculations and the tug-of-war nature between Present Sutton and Future Sutton lead me to the heart of what “free time” truly means: its authenticity. Free time is only real if I’m fully present, engaged, and focused on the experience at hand. Picture this: I’m sitting with a friend over coffee, but my mind is busy juggling a to-do list. Am I really free? So, the final step before I say yes to any new commitment is to self-check where my heart will genuinely lie in that moment. Absolute freedom isn’t just about “having time” — it’s about full investment in the joy of the now. 

 

So, coffee later? 🙂