Let it be known that on this day, Friday, March 25, 2016, I have accomplished literally nothing. In fact, I haven't accomplished much of anything over the past week, the treacherous, yet glorious week known as spring break. When I was younger, I harbored the misconception that spring break was all about three things: the ocean, booze, and loud music. This was due, in large part, to the fact that MTV used to run a plethora of music videos and television specials about the immense parties that would be thrown for the adventurous college students that traveled south before returning to their respective universities. I would sit at my kitchen counter with my Capri Sun and peanut butter and jelly sandwich, watching as these unearthly beings known as "twenty-somethings" danced like they didn't have a care in the world. I was mesmerized.

In actuality, I was disillusioned. Now, at the age of twenty, I've come to the realization that spring break is little more than seven days wherein college students catch up on sleep and consume copious amounts of food. Granted, some have indeed fled to beaches and other, warmer destinations, but a majority of us will remain at home, in our pajamas, procrastinating and binge watching shows on Netflix. At first glance, this doesn't sound all that bad. In truth, it sounds absolutely amazing. Being given a reprieve from the stress-fueled courses of college reenergizes the mind like nothing else, but it does something else, as well.

It makes us (or maybe just me) lazy.

While I'm composing this article, I can see a clearly outlined list of tasks I was supposed to complete this week; only one of them has been crossed out. I'm not typically prey to procrastination, but with the concept of spring break looming over me, I find myself thinking, "Listen, you've got time. Seriously, you've got all week. Just chill." Well, I had all week. And, as aforementioned, it is now Friday.

Oops.

Even worse, I have little to no desire to return to school. I mean, it isn't like I won't actually drive to Marshall Monday morning, but with this week's relaxation has sucked the remaining gumption from my body and mind.

Double oops.

I suppose I can't blame the entirety of this situation on the phenomenon known as spring break, given the fact that I deliberately set goals for myself and didn't accomplish them of my own volition. However, I can't help but think that I would have been better off without the existence of spring break itself. For starters, the semester would end earlier, which I would enjoy much more than this half-baked attempt at regaining enough mental strength. I can see light at the end of the tunnel now, but with a week's worth of laziness under my belt, the struggle has become real. My bed and I have become one, and I'm not about to betray its trust (or give up the cheesy, martial arts films I've been watching all week). Additionally, spring break acts as a promise for what is to come, but that beacon of hope is delayed because spring break exists. This is a paradox with which I no longer wish to deal.

Honestly, in retrospect, I don't think I could exude the energy needed for the beach trips that I used to fantasize about when I was younger. College has turned me into an old woman who's bedtime is just after ten o'clock in the evening, and that might be worse than the false depictions of spring break that were fed to me as a child. Even the idea of getting up and ordering a pizza seems like too much effort. In fact, all of my productivity has been zapped through writing this article (started Friday morning and ending Saturday evening). And its significantly shorter than anything I've ever written.

Here's hoping I regain my desire to complete this semester (or die trying).