After eleven weeks of anguish, frustration, a little learning, and a lot of insomnia, I made the trek back to my hometown for four weeks of winter vacation.

And let me tell you—I am living the college kid’s dream right now.

I’ve been home for seven days. I’ve worn the same sweatshirt for four of them. I don’t know if the light blue stain of nastiness caked on my sleeve is toothpaste, frosting, or dishwashing detergent (out of curiosity, I just taste tested—it’s toothpaste, people. Minty fresh.).

Tomorrow I am doing laundry for the first time, which consists solely of sweaty socks and my two pairs of sweatpants, both caked in dog hair and cocoa powder from my incessant baking.

Also, call Anna Wintour, because I have I brought back the messy bun. Except this time I’m taking creative license, as in form it also seems to resemble the great Albert Einstein, except after he’s stuck his finger in an electric socket.

Emails? I’ll get to them later. Gift wrapping? I’ll probably save it for Christmas morning. Makeup? Nah. Gingerbread house decorating contest? It’s on.

This is winter break, people. This is bliss.

I’ve made up for two and a half months of dog cuddles in a week. I’ve decorated trees, visited beloved friends, played a heck-load of MarioKart, and I even NAPPED. For, like, a whole hour.

Eventually this winter break magic will melt away, and I will start to miss my college town and my friends again. Still, in anticipation of the challenges that winter term is destined to bring, I will be driving home slowly and grudgingly.

But until then, I’ll be making snow angels, yelling too loud at my brother’s high school basketball games, singing Christmas carols, and otherwise living it up. Cheers, my fellow exhausted college students. This is your time to shine.