With spring break seemingly never ending, I wanted to provide a reminder of what to expect staying in your hometown for so long. While some of you may have spent your spring break trying your hand at virus roulette because you didn’t want to cancel your trip abroad, a good portion of our school population went home and with that comes withdrawal. These are the stages and symptoms to expect as you move through your weeks away from Mr. Jefferson’s University.
Maybe you’re still in a daze from the midterm exam you were taking just weeks ago, but being home doesn’t quite feel right. You try to tell your mom you guys can eat off Grounds for dinner instead of cooking at home, and she gives you a strange look. You ask your little brother if he’s heard back from Comm yet. Your dad shoots a piece of paper into the trash can, and you start singing the “Good Ol’ Song.” You revel in the posts from U.Va. Barstool and catch yourself thinking of what you’re going to wear to Trin this evening. Acclimating is hard.
It turns out there’s no good food in the pantry, and you’re pissed. Your parents have adapted to life without you, and you start to wonder if you even belong at home. You realize all the people you wish were home aren’t, and watching your friends’ social media stories makes you mad that you didn’t spend $1,500 on that last minute flight to Punta Cana. You get angry trying to show your mom how to greet you the way Miss Kathy does. And on top of that, you keep getting spam emails about getting an even more expensive meal plan next year.
You tell your parents you should probably go back early so you can “get some work done,” — or watch the new Netflix show about babies by yourself while eating raw cookie dough. You are checking all of your GroupMes for carpool announcements. At night, you pray to Thomas Jefferson that you’ll get your grades up once you get back. You contemplate a fifth year just to get more time — maybe you do want to do that one year masters program after all? You miss the freedom of being out on the open brick sidewalk.
Deep sadness comes every time you think of the Rotunda all cold and alone right now. Your mom definitely doesn’t like your new nose piercing as much as your friends at the University do. You’re finally grappling with the fact that bagels in NoVa cost six times what they do at Bodo’s. You sleep until two, eat and go back to bed. You should have cherished sprinting to your 9 a.m. classes and flagging down the crossing guards.
You realize that this is your home, whether you like it or not. You settle into the same routine you had in high school and all of the same bad habits. You decide to take advantage of the time you have in a bed that isn’t size Twin XL, and you want to spend the rest of your time showering your dogs with love and affection. You enjoy your 12 hours of comfort, until it finally hits you that you're paying $30,000 to go to the University of Phoenix.
Emily Porter is a Humor Columnist for The Cavalier Daily. She can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org