Where’s my cell phone? I hooked up with who? Why does it feel like I’m constantly in a hot yoga studio?

These are common questions many of us found ourselves asking during the sacred seven days that are the University of Michigan’s Welcome Week.

While I’m sure most of us enjoyed being in a self-induced Crystal Palace stupor for approximately 168-hours and possibly contracting a staph infection while swimming in the sad excuses that fraternities call “pools,” I am happy that the week has ended.

Welcome Week makes it easy for us to forget that we actually go to school, have classes to take and futures to figure out. Us generally intelligent, reasonable students can make a few dumb decisions before permanently moving into the UGLI for the fall. We refuse to enter Ulrich's or check Ctools. Despite moving in, we fail to unpack or decorate our rooms. We refuse to acknowledge that the University of Michigan is a place of learning. 

Until the first day of classes on Tuesday, I’d yet to make it to the Diag, let alone State Street. No need when any darty/party/late night is conveniently located on or near Hill Street, right? That day, I had a hard time remembering the locations of my classes, or even what classes I was taking. When someone asked me about this semester’s courses, I struggled to list all four.    

My point is this: Welcome Week is not reality. And while it’s fun to make a fool of yourself at every prominent frat on campus, it gets old. Fast. For me, I craved some sort of routine - or maybe just sobriety? No but really, my body needs more than five hours of sleep, as well as water and a solid meal. 

But according to my Twitter, Facebook and Instagram feeds, my opinion may make me part of the minority. I would provide you with a few example captions, but I don’t want to bore you. Instead, just imagine a lot of word play with the “welcome bAAck” or “gAAme day.” Lots of “RIP”s were also used. 

But RIP is appropriate; I do think that Welcome Week will peacefully rest, as it should. It lived an adventurous but short life. One colored with much regret but also much fun. As Charles Dickens once wrote, “It was the best of time, it was the worst of times…” 

So, allow a period of mourning, but move on. A week after classes have started, it might finally be time to go get those over-priced books from Ulrich's and actually read the updates your professor put on Ctools. Find your favorite spot in the UGLI and harbor no resentment toward it. Classes have begun, and real life can now continue. But hey, don’t be too sad – we’ve still got a few tailgates left, and darty season lasts until it drops to the 40s.