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“Happy” New Year?
By Micah Engel
Alright you lazy lubbers, you've had your vacation and now it's time to get back to suffering! Take down those Christmas trees and burn the wrapping paper! Sackcloth will be available from 7 A.M. onwards…
Perhaps you're one of the lucky few who don't feel this way after Christmas break ends and the bleak second semester hits you in the face. Your parents might offer that less-than-comforting excuse of, “Hey kiddo! It'll be okay! Look forward to your Easter break, which is coming in 72 days, 22 hours, 43 minutes and 15 seconds…make that 13 seconds.” (But hey, who's counting?) Whoever titled the New Year “Happy” certainly wasn't working on college applications.
A good solution for distracting yourself from the schoolwork you should be doing is to think about all the past (pleasant) memories of your childhood holidays and vacations. Remember those days when you were so eagerly awaiting Santa Claus that you wet the bed in anticipation? And you made your brother believe that it was just the tooth fairy who left your mattress drenched? (No Johnny , it's not pee, it's yellow snow!) Or how about when you were a living nightmare during your family's RV trip across the US until your parents caved in and let you eat McDonalds 36 times in a row? And didn't you like taking laxatives to clear your system from all that kangaroo meat afterwards?
Another good option is to look ahead to your future and realize things will only get much worse. First college will happen, where you'll struggle with average grades and learn the meaning of the word “swirly.” Then puberty will hit and you might grow an inch, get some confidence and propose to the very next guy/girl you meet. You'll have some kids who seem cute at first but really are secretly alien drool machines sent from Mars. They'll soon grow up into expensive drool machines that mock you for your geeky clothes while they demand the latest fashionable loincloth from GAP . You'll buy a house you can't afford, spend years paying off the mortgage, and gripe about the cruddy coffee at your job. You'll only get two weeks of vacation for the entire year and you probably won't be able to relax much because your teenage daughter will be shouting about how much you've ruined her life since you took the family on vacation right when Boys-Wearing-Excessively-Too-Much-Facial-Makeup were playing a gig in town. Then your belly will sag, you'll constantly feel guilty for eating butter and desperately try to hide those wrinkles. (“LOVE SPOTS!” You'll insist they be called) The good news is that by your late 60s, Alzheimer's will set in and you'll completely forget about everything as you contently watch “ Oprah ” reruns the rest of your life.
Of course, I'm not trying to discourage you at all. I do actually look forward to giving my kids the Easter break excuse someday. “Haha! Take that you little weasels! No holidays for the next 3 months of your life!” But then again, I'm terrified of Oprah….