It’s the beginning of December, and we all know what that means: THE FALL SEMESTER IS ALMOST OVER! If you’re like me though, you’ve been ready for Christmas break since move in day! Squidward Tentacles is the spirit animal of college students all over, and he’s just as ready for the end of the semester as you are.

Your alarm goes off for your first final, but you’re already awake stressing about the week ahead:

I should probably care about these finals, but honestly I just want to stay in my bed forever. I probably hadn’t slept much and spent the night watching Netflix studying so actually going to that final is just a bad life decision if I’ll just fall asleep in the middle of it… right?

You get to your first final and it’s 100 multiple choice plus 4 essay questions:

Seriously, professor smartypants? I know you don’t want to grade all of those finals just as much I don’t want to take them. How about we change our final to a 90-minute nap and Netflix binge and call it a day.

After your final, the annoying kid next to you tries to act all sentimental in saying goodbye:

There is a 90 percent chance that I’m never going to see you again, and I never really liked you, so please just stop. Don’t make this harder or more awkward than it has to be.

One of your professors emails you asking you to come in during office hours to discuss your attendance grade:

Yes, professor. I did in fact have 17 cats die this semester and that is precisely why I missed those 17 classes. It was a very traumatic experience. Do you want me to bring in their corpses as proof? Didn’t think so. Leave me alone to mourn, please.

Your parents call to ask how finals week is treating you:

Yes, mom, I’m eating vegetables. Yes, dad, I will probably live in your basement for the rest of my life. I might graduate with a Bachelor’s degree, but there’s a good chance I’ll graduate with a participation ribbon. I guess we’ll all have to wait and see what the Dean hands me when I walk across that stage in 30 years.

Time for a midweek breakdown about what you’ll do once you graduate:

In an ideal world, I’ll get a job within my major… but this is America and that would be way too easy. I’ll most likely have to sell my body and/or illegal substances to pave my way into corporate America... because nothing says “I have a college degree worth $100,000” more than prostitution and drugs.

Your last final is finally over and you’re a road trip away from presents three weeks of uninterrupted family time:

What’s that mom and dad? I did just complete another semester of college! You think I deserve a Hawaiian vacation as a Christmas present for my rockin’ GPA? You shouldn’t have! (No, really, you shouldn’t have. I skipped 17 classes for 17 fictitious cat deaths. You shouldn’t be rewarding this behavior. Bad parenting.)

When you arrive home for break and realize you still don’t know what you want out of life:

Sometimes I think I know what I’m doing with my life, but I also thought The Cheetah Girls sang Wannabe by The Spice Girls. So I clearly lack knowledge about life in general. Maybe I’ll figure out what I’m doing with my life next week, maybe I’ll figure it out on my deathbed. We’ll just have to wait and see.