I knew something was wrong this summer when my mother informed me that I had a dentist appointment the next day at 11 a.m., and I called to change it because I didn’t want to wake up that early. It was only when every ounce of my effort scarcely got me into the car for my 3 p.m. appointment that I realized the severity of my condition.

I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I was being lazy.

I had given up on employment (and activities in general) when my best-laid plans of finding a summer job, with over 25 meticulously-completed applications, replete with glowing references, never even received a call back.

So besides mowing a few lawns, watching the neighbors’ kids, and taking two online classes, I spent long afternoons in my hammock, hiked an array of mountain trails, finished several books and three seasons of The Office, and enjoyed quality time with friends and family.

For most of the 97 days of summer vacation, my life was that of a stereotypically-lazy college student. And I thoroughly enjoyed every minute of it.

But even now, in the first few days of September, I’m still recovering from this summer’s strand of unproductiv-itis that made it difficult to drag myself out of the house for all but the most pressing reasons. Trying to settle back into a schedule and get my work done has proved rather frustrating.

That, I’ve decided, is the strange paradox of vacations, the price we pay for relaxation. We need our rest, and we should spend time doing what we enjoy, investing in the people we care about on the rare occasions we have the opportunity.

This kind of thinking, though, can become problematic. When I have a free day, I tell myself that I need to rest, that I’ll accomplish something tomorrow, or next month, or when school starts. Yet in doing so, I neglect the present and take the moment entirely for granted.

Instead, I have to constantly remind myself of the pressing responsibility to use whatever time I’m given very wisely – be it at a desk or in my hammock.

Because laziness, as I found, produces indifference, and indifference produces lost ambition, and lost ambition produces unproductivity – and unproductivity certainly does disappoint us.