For 99% of college students, it's a lit weekend. For the designated drivers, it's a complete fiasco. I decided well before Halloween that I wasn't going to be drinking, so I volunteered to be the designated driver. Someone has to make sure no one dies, right?

I was not even close to prepared for the chaos that would go down. The following events are 100% accurate as to what happened the Saturday night before Halloween at Michigan State University.

There are 12 people at my house. They all need to get to Division Avenue. My car seats five, including myself. I refuse to make more than two trips, so Molly, Jorja, Madi, and Erika stuff themselves into the backseat. Diego hops in the front passenger, and Madye manages to sit on the floor, at Diego's feet. Good thing Division is just down the street.

We arrive and the others let me know that they are going to figure out their own way to get to our location. "Fine with me," I say to myself. We walk inside and I immediately walk back out. The house is packed so tightly with people that it is literally impossible to move without bumping into someone. Screw that; I round up my crew and get out of there as fast as possible.

Next stop, Spartan Avenue. It's still crowded, but the party is mostly outdoors, so it's bearable, other than the freezing temperatures. I last about 10 minutes then decide that I need warmth and food. Everyone seems to be doing okay, so I head out to grab some McDonalds. As I'm sitting in the drive-thru, my friend Juice calls asking if I can give him, Josh, and Chino a ride to the party I was JUST AT. I order a few extra McChickens because my children gotta stay fed, and whip back to Division.

I turn onto Gunson, and it's completely shut down. Cops. Ambulances. A fire truck. The whole street is blocked off. Back to Grand River. After almost hitting approximately 11 frat boys dressed in jerseys, 23 playboy bunnies, 19 superheroes, and 65 black cats, I make it to the house on Division.

The boys jump in, I hand them the food that will keep them alive for the next six hours, and drop them off at the party with everyone else. I head into the party, leave a few more McChickens with the people I know will need it, and drive myself home to chill out for a few minutes.

Juice calls again. "Can you take me back to the first party? Josh left his sweatshirt there." OMG. CAN YOU NOT ALL JUST BE AT ONE HOUSE FOR 10 MINUTES?!?

But, I'm the DD. I'm not drinking, so I might as well help him out. Back out of my warm bed, back into my cold car, and back to Spartan Ave. Juice and Josh jump in, along with Erika who is sober and just wants to go home and sleep (smart girl). We swing by my house, drop off Erika, and head back to Division to get Josh's sweatshirt. As they get out of the car, Josh says, "Do NOT leave. I'm literally going to grab my sweatshirt and come back."

Thirty minutes pass by. No sign of the boys. Josh finally picks up his phone and tells me that they're going to stay, so I can leave. Oh, I'm leaving alright. No one else seems to need a ride or emotional support, so I go home.

My phone rings. It's Madye. "COME GET MOLLY."

Ugh. I roll out of bed, throw on my shoes and a hoodie, and head back outside to my car. Okay, it's freezing out. Heat gets turned on full blast, and I head back down Albert Ave. As I roll up to the heavily populated house on Spartan Ave, there's no sign of Molly. She might just be stuck inside the house, so I sit in my warm car and give her a few minutes.

Ten minutes later, there's still no Molly. My gas light comes on; "shoooooot," I say to myself. I am definitely sending out Venmo requests tomorrow for gas money. Madye emerges from the front yard with a very glassy-eyed Madi on her arm. Still no Molly.

"Can you please take Madi home to sleep? Molly refuses to come."

Sure thing, fam, that's what I'm here for. Madi falls into the backseat, Madye jumps into the front, and we head back home. I park the car, but Madi refuses to come inside, claiming that she wants to sleep in the car.

Fine. Freeze.

Three minutes later, she walks inside and goes right to sleep. Called it.

I throw some sweatpants on, thinking my night is over. Suddenly, a crying Molly barges through the front door - barefoot, no pants, and no coat. A giant scrape is on her leg and her skin is cold to the touch. Oh my gosh, she actually ran here.

The next 30 minutes consist of consoling a very belligerent Molly. Madi emerges from the dead to annoy me, so I threaten to lock her out, to which she replies, "Do it, I dare you."

Okay, I quit. I drove them home; I'm a DD, not a therapist. If I don't let them be and step away, I'm going to have my own kind of meltdown, and I can guarantee it won't be pretty.

I'm not sure if I was relieved or even more pissed off, but just as I'm saying, "I give up," Josh calls. He and Juice are ready to leave the party and go home.

At this point I'm in flannel pajamas and fuzzy socks, but I don't even care. I need to get away from the sobbing girls that are rapidly populating my house, so I slip on some sandals (with the fuzzy socks still on because it's -45 degrees outside), and head to Division Street. I text the boys that I have arrived and am very ready to leave. Five minutes later, they reply, "Hold on, we have to say goodbye to everybody."

Apparently saying goodbye takes 20 minutes, but they finally emerge from the house and get into my car. I lecture them, tell them I hate them, and then remind them that I'm never driving them anywhere again, which is a complete lie because I will volunteer to be the DD until the day I die.

Juice gets dropped off. Josh gets dropped off. I text Nate and Diego to make sure they are safe for the night. They are. Madye texts me and lets me know that everyone is asleep. My job here is done.

Everyone is alive. Everyone is safe. Everyone made it home.

I'd call that a successful night of designated driving, wouldn't you?