Rest
When I was an undergrad, I would always go home for breaks right after midterms or finals or … well, something terribly stressful. I think my dad must have assumed there was something profoundly wrong with me at this point in my life. I would come home to his house, where I didn’t need to do anything - didn’t need to figure out how to make supper happen, didn’t need to shuffle books out of the way to find my bed, etc, etc. And so I would sleep. Just sleep, for hours and hours, all throughout the day, and then still sleep the night.
Silly me to think that life would be any different just because I’m in grad school now, and just because home is here with my husband. I may have to move stuff to find my spot on the bed, and I may have to actually try to make dinner, but the pile of stuff next to the bed has yet to actually take over the room, and chick patties and rice still sort of count as dinner.
So sleep it is. Lots and lots of sleep…