The holiday season has finally ended, and we now enter the holiday dry spell. I say “finally” because, for the first time, I found all the festivities kind of draining and underwhelming. Amidst all of the holidays, starting way back in October with Halloween, I felt like I was watching all the festivities from the outside. I bought a Halloween costume the day before, and only because I was passing out candy.

I didn’t partake in “Halloweekend,” and a night I used to look forward to for months passed unceremoniously. Fast forward roughly two months, and the horrific realization that this was probably what being an adult feels like hit me. The two days before Christmas I felt zero excitement for the big day. Even the day before was lackluster -- we were snowed in, so all of our plans were derailed. The nervous energy I always felt as I lie awake, waiting until morning, was nonexistent. Unfortunately, it was replaced by guilt that I couldn’t buy everyone presents this year.

It's a reality many college students face -- we are, after all, “broke college kids.” That’s what all of the adults in my family told me, as Christmas loomed near -- “you’re in college, we don’t expect you to buy anything for us, save your money,” etc. I was grateful for the pass, knowing that I won’t get to use that excuse forever. Yet I didn’t find myself that eager to take advantage of it as I thought I would.

Just last Christmas, I had had a steady income for a high school student, and I blew through a lot of my savings buying unnecessary amounts of gifts for my family members. I finally had the power to buy them slightly more expensive things with money I had earned myself. Yet this Christmas, I didn’t have that power. I don’t have a job anymore, and I’m still trying to navigate college life.

Christmas came and went, and I received basically everything I had put on my wishlist. For some reason, this upset me. Despite not communicating these feelings with my family, part of me assumed I would get a couple things off the list but I was mainly expecting cash. I opened gift after gift Christmas morning and couldn’t help but think about how much these things cost. Maybe it's just a phase but it’s hard to appreciate material things when you share a 250 square foot room with two other people, and already have too much in it. I actually asked my mom to return at least half of what I got from her, in exchange for the money (writing this down makes me cringe -- it's such a "first world problem").

Now, as I exist in the awkward post-holidays period of time, before going back to school again, I have to ponder my financial instability. In reality, I’m not actually a “broke college kid” -- at least, not yet. My mother is paying for my school, including tuition, housing, and meal plan. For all intents and purposes, I don’t have to worry about paying for rent or food.

Yet my money continues to disappear. I’m paying for things I never had to worry about buying myself before. I knew I should have saved up more money before I went off to college, but I honestly hadn’t thought about how much it would cost to buy my own toilet paper. In addition, I’m experiencing more freedom than I’ve ever had, and I still don’t know what to do with it. That freedom is multiplied by the fact that I was allowed to take my car with me to college -- a privilege most freshmen don’t have. It's a blessing and a curse; I can leave school, but leaving school usually means spending money. I’m able to go out whenever I want, but that's not great for my bank account. Gas prices in San Diego are ridiculous.

I go back to school in a week or so, and with me, I’ll haul back all of my spoils of war. I’m sure that as long as I can find a semi-convenient location for all of my new possessions, I’ll appreciate them. And maybe my New Year’s resolution will be to save up for next Christmas ... or maybe I’ll just see how many punches I can get out of my “broke college kid” card.