The end of spring break is upon us. Those seven incredible days of doing nothing (that you looked forward to since the moment you came back from winter break) are now a thing of the past. Whether you went somewhere uber fun, or just stayed at home, the post-spring break depression is real.
It's hard going from a daily eight hours of sleep due to sleeping in and what not to getting an average of two hours of shut eye during your geology class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. And the weather. I bet it was real nice laying out in 78 degree weather, but the Ohio is calling for snow on Sunday, so don't get used to it. We all are suffering from serious spring break withdrawal, and nobody understands more than Michael Scott. Here's a break down the stages of spring break withdrawal as told by Michael Scott.
Stage 1: Happy (Somewhat).
Sure, you're upset that you actually have to come back to reality, but nothing beats seeing your friends after a long seven days apart.
Stage 2: Weakness.
You felt invincible on spring break. You consumed a ridiculous amount of calories, drank your water weight equivalent in alcohol, and didn't actually sleep when you were supposed to, but you had never felt better. Nothing and nobody could stop you. But of course, the second you left, it all caught up to you, leaving you oh so weak.
Stage 3: Ambivalence.
Spring break is over. Diets are over. Life is over. You do what you want.
Stage 4: Envy.
As much as we pretend, nobody really likes to hear about someone else's vacation. Even if you traveled to the moon for spring break, hearing about your friends getting drunk at a bar in Indiana leaves you feeling seriously left out.
Stage 5: Humor.
You may not want to hear everything about everyone's vacations, but you definitely want to hear about your best friend making a complete idiot head of herself, because I mean, come on, that's funny.
Stage 6: Denial.
Congratulations, you're almost halfway through the stages of spring break withdrawal! That being said, you've completely lost it and are now trying to recreate champagne showers in your room. I am so sorry.
Stage 7: Emptiness.
Not seeing aquatic species everyday has really left you with a feeling of incompleteness. No worries, go buy a turtle and a 24 hour ocean wave soundtrack. It'll be like you never left! Well, sort of.
Stage 8: Confusion.
So you’re RA is pissed about the champagne stains on the carpet, and apparently, turtles aren’t allowed in dorms… You don't understand. There were no rules on spring break.
Stage 9: Rebellion.
You're going to refuse to go to class. You're going to call in sick for work. No one can tell you what to do. You're sticking it to the man, showing them that you don't live by the rules. Spring break made you a bada**.
Stage 10: Bartering.
Suddenly you realize you actually want to graduate on time, so instead of attending class, you'll just do the work from the PowerPoints your professor posts on BlackBoard after every class. Still bada**. Fight the power.
Stage 11: Anger.
You're not a bada**. You end up going to class and work, because you have no choice. No one better look at you the wrong way though, because you mad as hell and have no problem expressing how you feel. You're currently riding first class on the Crazy Train.
Stage 12: Sadness.
But you can't be angry forever. Your true emotions are starting to show, and the waterworks are running on full throttle.
Stage 13: Distraction.
You'll try to do what you know best and shop your sadness away, until you realize you only have five dollars left in your bank account. Maybe buying shots for everyone wasn't such a good idea...
Stage 14: Hopelessness.
This emotional roller coaster has left you drained. You're empty inside and it seems as if there is no light at the end of the tunnel. You will forever be missing spring break.
Stage 15: Acceptance.
But, then you realize your roommate cleaned your room, the sun is shining, and you have time to go get Starbucks before class. Maybe reality isn't so bad after all.