Despite any number of lazy and admittedly desperate avoidance tactics, the fact of the matter is a dorm room doesn't empty itself. And it definitely has to be empty. Within the week, it won't be your room anymore (or probably ever again). So, here's to emptying -- cleaning, folding, storing, packing, laughing, and crying -- in preparation for everything that comes after.

Denial.

Start by refusing to acknowledge the fact that summer break is impending, or that summer break involves leaving what has been your place of residence for almost a year. This is the reason why packing typically gets procrastinated until the last possible minute. On top of finals, it's only a blip -- not even a blip -- on a long list of imperatives. What packing?

Anger.

Boxing up everything you own can devolve into irrational frustration, especially if you try to do it all at once. After a few hours, exasperation sets in. You get suddenly desperate for a hairbrush or something equally important to your daily life only to remember you accidentally crammed it in the bag in that bin in that bigger bin. And that is the last straw.

Depression.

It’s sad to watch your room become unrecognizable as all the things that have made it yours are stripped away. In the moment, you almost forget the amazing incentive of going home, and it just feels like self-erasure. You rationalize leaving some clutter just so everything won’t look so lonely and bare.

Bargaining.

Then you get over it. If you didn’t have so many belongings, this would be infinitely less painful. Next year, you decide not to decorate at all. You just need, like, a bedroll and that’s it. How many sentimental possessions would you have to cut loose in order for everything to fit in one huge bag?

Acceptance.

The truth is going places means leaving places -- that’s how you got here, isn't it? Nostalgic and time-consuming as it is, you can do it.