What did my friends do over spring break?

Well, I've got one that went to Disney Land, one that vacationed in Las Vegas, one that went to Chicago, another that went to Seattle... it goes on and on. This is just what I know from morosely watching Snapchat stories from my bedroom, wishing I was in a better place -- both literally and figuratively.

And what did I do? Work. Projects. I prepared for a major Spanish presentation due right when I get back, which included reading part of a novel and trying to get in contact with my partner (I don't even know who this partner is at the moment) to help me. I tracked down interviews for two other classes, conquered my phone anxiety to call people. I'm going to have to deal with a disappointed professor when I get back to class because I couldn't contact a magazine editor to interview for his stupid project.

I also tried to crank out a short story about a demon for creative writing workshop, but burnout and idiopathic writer's block became the scourges of that - so that's another professor I'm going to have to deal with.

Then there was familial drama, my hiked responsibilities around the family barn, and my routine-obsessed brain going on the fritz because of a change in my daily schedule. Suddenly I've got spikes in my depression. All that, and I never like being home in the first place because of the mess and the constant screaming (yes, literal screaming) of my two little siblings.

The point of all that ranting: I didn't get a vacation.

But I'm going to have to say that I did, right? Because both teachers and your friends expect you to come out of spring break well-rested and ready to roll. It's the first thing professors say when you get back: "I hope everyone had a restful spring break!"

Bitch, no I didn't, not with all the deadlines you gave me. And you are fully aware of where you put those deadlines because you're asking for papers to be passed in -- oh, and now you're calling a group up to present. Don't even try to act innocent. You know what you did.

College kids are even worse. "What did you do for spring break? I went to London!" Okay, who the hell financed your trip to London because I sure don't see you making all that dough decorating pizzas three nights a week to pay rent on an overpriced apartment. Seriously. Are these people even leaving, or is this all just an elaborate social media hoax to make us all get a bad case of FOMO?

There's also this thing called academia, which is what you happen to be in school for, and if your profs are anything like mine, a trip to your dream city just isn't in the cards. So you either just screwed your grade over by partying on the beach all week, or you've just got professors that are angels and the likes of which are the savior of GPA's everywhere. If the latter is true, please introduce me. Maybe they can stage some sort of epic good-versus-evil face-off against my own.

The point of all of this is that if you didn't have a good spring break, if you were swamped with homework or mental health issues or you got trapped at home for financial reasons -- I'm right there with you. I might not speak up when the professor asks what we did over "break," because I'll probably end up saying something I'll regret, but just know I hear you and I feel you.

I stand with you in misanthropic, bitter solidarity.