I’ve been home for a little over a month and it’s been a blast. An entire month with no homework to do, fun family holidays right smack in the middle, and for the first time caught up on sleep. As much fun as it has been, I am excited to go back to school.

When I came home for fall break it was like I was a guest in my own home. None of my friends had the same break as me, if they had one at all. Thanksgiving there was a whirlwind of traveling family, and food induced comas. So both times I wished I had been home for a little longer and I wasn’t exactly itching to get back to campus.

While being home this time around I wasn’t just living out of a suitcase. I unpacked and actually lived at home again. You know what I found out? Life has continued without me at home. My parents are used to only having one child in the house. Only one teenager to feed, not two. My little brother has this whole group of friends who frequent our house and a team and everything. It’s bizarre that they’ve just completely readjusted.

Then I think about the reverse scenario. I’ve done exactly the same thing at school. I have new friends and family, new routines and certain expectations for my day to day activities. I’m used to going to dinner at 6 with people in my dorm and hanging out in lounges when I have free time. I call the shots on when I go to bed and wake up. What activities I participate in are entirely my own choice.

With us both acclimated to different schedules me being home was sort of like time traveling back to when I was in high school. The difference being that now I’m not. So given all this it would make sense that I’m ready to get back to campus. Ready for a new semester of knowledge and life experiences. That said, give it another few months and I’ll be ready to come home all over again.