Spring break is quickly approaching. Although, I’m sure many will argue not quickly enough.
I think it’s safe to say that the majority of students have a mental countdown ticking. In fact, I’d bet there are a few who happily rip off a post-it note every day, revealing a numeral countdown that ends with a smiley face and a doodle of the sun.
College students are known for celebrating spring break to its fullest potential, and if any readers recall some of my previous columns, it will probably not surprise them when I admit I have never gone on a spring break adventure.
You guessed it.
Instead, when I calculated the week of spring break, I realized it also fell on the same week a co-worker was taking time off to go on vacation.
She’s going to Panama.
So, how am I going to celebrate my senior year spring break?
By picking up a couple shifts, of course.
What happened to me? Sometimes I wonder how my desires can differ so greatly from my peers. Don’t get me wrong – there’s nothing I’d love more than some sunshine.
Actually, a severe sunburn sounds pretty darn good right now.
But who am I kidding? I’d be lost among a sea of half-naked young people, enjoying more than a few games of beachside beer pong. I don’t even own a bikini, and I’m pretty sure that’s a pre-requisite for spring break.
Working all week sounds like a good plan.
But don’t worry, I made sure to plan a few days of relaxed fun.
Saturday night, I’m hosting a Scattergories party.
Try not to be too jealous while you’re soaking up rays down south, OK?
Besides, I don’t have the money to whisk myself off to a tropical vacation, and I can definitely use the extra cash I earn to buy my textbooks for Spring Quarter.
That’s the responsible Andrea chiming in. That’s the grown-up Andrea. That’s the adult Andrea.
Sometimes, being a grown-up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
There are definitely some benefits. For example, I can stay up and play Scattergories as long as I want Saturday night.
I know you’re jealous.
A few weeks ago, I was sick. And from the sounds of the trumpet-like nose blowing, moaning, sneezing and wheezing in class, I’m pretty sure Ohio State as a whole was under the weather.
The effect we created was really quite impressive. There was never any silence, and for good reason, the professors looked scared for their lives.
But, while I was sprawled across the couch for three days, there was no one to take care of me.
No one to offer me chicken soup.
No one to place their hand on my forehead in that comforting way.
No one to remind me that it’s time for medicine, by gently awaking me with a handful of pills and a small glass of orange juice.
I was flying solo. I literally ate S’mores Pop-Tarts for the duration of my sickness, and it wasn’t nearly as awesome as some might think.
By the second day, I paced around the kitchen for a solid two minutes before settling on the shiny little bag, once again.
And so, I have decided it’s OK that I will have never been on a spring break adventure in college. It’s just part of growing up. There is no spring break in the professional world.
Besides, if I really want to participate in the spring break atmosphere, I can always just walk over to the Oval during Spring Quarter.
But, I’m pretty sure a bikini is a pre-requisite over there, too.