Spring Break In College vs. Spring Break Now spring break 2010 cancun

Just a few years ago, spring break was the most important week of the year. You looked forward to this week the second you stepped on campus. It was a week filled with debauchery, inebriation, sexual defiance, and fun times. Now, spring break is null and void. It doesn’t exist–like Kaiser Soze, it just up and vanishes. It’s just a hazy memory buried deep in the back of your mind. However, sometimes it’s good to remind yourself of what you miss…and don’t miss.

Friday Before Spring Break

College: No one goes to class, because everyone is packing for the trip to (enter closest driveable “tropical” city here). You are at least five beers deep before you truly start to pack, and you only start packing because you have to leave in 30 minutes. By the time you actually leave, you are at least an hour late and everyone but the DD is hammered. Google Maps called for a seven hour drive, but it turned into 10 hours because you and your friends had to stop every 45 minutes to use the restroom.

Now: It’s Friday. Thank God. You’ll go to happy hour and maybe stay out at the bars late if you got enough sleep the night before. You hit up the well special at your favorite bar and make it past midnight, but pull the Irish goodbye around 1 a.m.

Saturday, The First Day Of Spring Break

College: You arrive at your destination, ready to kill everyone you drove down with. Unfortunately for you and everyone else, these assholes are also your roommates for the week. Mercifully, you’re all beat from the drive down and you get a good night’s sleep before storming the beach. You wake up to the wafts of sea salt and tequila. It’s go time. You black out by the afternoon and continue drinking through Sunday morning.

Now: You have a hangover. You wake up at 7 a.m. feeling like garbage, despite having only four drinks the night before. After drinking about eight glasses of water, you can’t go back to sleep. You watch Netflix all day and eat whatever is left from your late night snack. (Probably a DiGiorno you left out all night.) You ignore texts from your friends who wants you to day drink with them.


College: You don’t remember half of yesterday and you are extremely hungry. You probably woke up way earlier that anyone else, or everyone else is MIA. Either way, you throw on your Rowdy Gentlemen Black Label Swimsuit, pound some Natty, and go grab food. You run into a few babes, and after barely conversing, you take one home only to find out everyone is already back in your hotel room. This is why the bathroom has a door on it. Just lay down some towels–it’s SB2010.

Now: You have work tomorrow. You try to work out, but after five minutes and a quarter of a mile on the treadmill, you give up the hope to be in “spring break” shape. Your parents call you and ask how you are doing, which becomes highlight of your day. It’s good to know someone cares about you. The conversation quickly turns sour, because you ask them for rent money again. Now, your Sunday is ruined by a mixture of crushing guilt and the “Sunday scaries,” AKA pre-work anxiety.

Monday To Thursday

College: Between parasailing, golfing, tanning, beach volleyball, heavy drinking, and sloppy, unprotected sex, the week is flying by. Your bar tabs are averaging around $100 a night and you’re having intercourse at a Gene-Simmons-in-his-prime pace. Your funds are dwindling, but you’re having the time of your life.

Now: You’re grinding away through the week. Friday inches closer and closer with each sip of coffee and each opened spreadsheet. The highlight of your week was watching “Friday Night Tykes” and winning a $20 bet with your friend on the Junior Outlaws versus the Junior Colts game.

Friday, When The Final Countdown Begins

College: With the exception of the $50 of food and gas money you stashed away under the mattress for the drive home, you’re out of money. The crushing reality of potentially being broke for the rest of the semester sets in–until you call Mom and Dad, who quickly deposit a few shekels into your checking account out of fear that you may be stuck in the Florida panhandle for the rest of your life. You consider blowing it all on another night in paradise.

Now: It’s Friday. You “work” from 9 to 11 a.m. and then you just stare blankly into your monitor for five hours until you sneak out of the office early and head to happy hour. It’s 75 degrees out, and you’re drinking a beer in the sunshine. Could it be? It’s not quite the pool deck at the Holiday Inn-Sunspree, but it’s the closest you’ve come since.


College: You all wake up as you pull onto campus. How Joe stayed awake all night was by the grace of God. Everyone except Joe decides to hit Ihop. Stories are told, and laughs are had. What a great week. Phrases like: “I’m calling Bullshit,” “Joe was a real boner kill,” and “I’m going to tell my kids this story” are had over unlimited pancakes.

Now: You’ve avoided social media long enough. You muster up the courage and pull up Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. A soft whimper escapes your mouth as you are met with visions of pure, collegiate glory. Girls in bikinis, all sorts of drinking apparatuses, a dude with a bloody face–it’s all there. You wish you were there, but then soon realize that the likelihood of you being able to hang for more than two days is slim to none. You still have soul-crushing FOMO.


College: The fun is over. You shovel down two Gatorades and five Advil as you crack open the books. You have a test Thursday. It’s back to reality.

Now: Anxiety.

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Working stock research sales. Trying to become the next billionaire hedge fund manager. Ex-IFC Pres of a Pac 12 school. Enjoys beaches, golf, sunshine, happy hours, and his wife.

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