It's Called Dead Week For a Reason

By Marley Cruise

I don't know if it's just me, but was it incredibly hard to leave home again after Thanksgiving break? I've traveled back and forth a few times this semester, but it’s only been for the occasional weekend, and I was far too busy seeing friends each time to really feel like I had much of a break.

Last week, however hectic it may have been, was just long enough for me to feel like I was back home bickering with my Pop and brother, cooking dinner with my Mimi, going out for coffee and lunch with friends from high school I haven't seen since September and wrestling with my dogs outside. I've come to the startling realization that I've really missed my family, friends and hometown. I'm two days into classes, and I'm an exhausted, stress eating, panicky mess. This is strange for me because I think most people who know me would not consider me to be particularly prone to homesickness. And I’m not. I am an adventurous, “go where the wind takes you”-type of person.  Nevertheless, I went home long enough to feel relieved, but not ready to be back at school. It was a sweet taste of freedom, but it seems that now I understand why this is called Dead Week.