Winter Break was wonderful. It was one month free of studying and seeing just how long you can stay in bed in the same pajamas you had been wearing for days. One by one, your friends from high school went back to college and before you know it you’re running across the quad because you’re 10 minutes late to your first class. Being back feels amazing, but it might just take some getting used to.
Phase 1: Learning how to socialize again.
Winter break was more like winter-I’m-not-taking-a-break-from-Netflix. Mentally, I’ve survived Oceanic Flight 815, faced dangerous obstacles with strangers on an island and learned seriously valuable life lessons. Physically, I’ve watched three seasons of Lost and haven’t seen sunlight in a month. So, you’re saying quoting the show at a party and relating every single thing to being on a deserted island would be weird? And that people actually speak words to each other at these parties? And make eye contact? And wear pants that aren’t sweatpants? Well, in that case, if I’ve been wrong on the dos and don’ts of socializing for the past four weeks, I don’t want to be right.
Phase 2: Going back to dining hall food.
On a scale of one to I-cried-saying-goodbye-to-Chipotle, I’d say I’m at a solid 7.5. Hungry while on break? The kitchen is a few feet away. Hungry back at URI? Just walk in the snow, up the hill, through the forest, over the bridge and across a lake you go, and you’ll be at the dining hall in no time. But once you get there, you’ll find no empty tables and the same meal that was served last night for dinner. Our access to food is so far away, but maybe it’s for the better that. The hometown deli has been real, and so has the Freshman 15.
Phase 3: Using a communal bathroom.
Throwback to the good ol’ days of showering barefoot, playing loud music and spending an excessive amount of time in front of the mirror picking at our insecurities located on our faces. Now, it’s back to strolling the co-ed hallway, praying your towel doesn’t fall while holding your shower caddy (extra swag points if you snagged a cool color) and hoping your flip-flops provide sufficient protection from whatever might be living on the shower floor. Not today germs, not today!
Phase 4: Having to do your own laundry again.
Shout out to my mom for doing my laundry for a month; you’re the real MVP. Now that I’m back, I’ve been having a staring contest with the washing machine for about seven minutes, and I’m losing. P.S. My white socks turned pink, Mom. That’s trendy, right?
Phase 5: Going to class.
As much as we like to forget, we go to college to learn. But after four weeks where the only reading I’ve done is glance at a restaurant menu or look at my text messages, I’m screwed with a side order of “I have to wake up at what time?” Well, now that I’ve seemingly sold my kidney for that required textbook I’ll use for a total 13 minutes, I guess studying is my only cost-effective activity. I know I’ll give myself a pep talk about challenging myself this semester and giving it my all, but I will allot myself a few mental breakdowns and power naps before I pick myself back up again. And by few, I mean many.
Spring semester, I think I’m ready for you… Just let me finish this pint of ice cream and one more episode of New Girl.