It seems like everyone is going somewhere fun for Spring Break, but I’m just going to go home. Am I missing out on something?

If you’ve not read the fig tree passage in The Bell Jar, here’s a brief synopsis: Every second of every day, you are missing out on something simply because you cannot live out every version of reality. You can choose to get existential about it and make yourself miserable, or you can accept this fact and make the most of the life you are currently living. Spring Break at home will certainly look different than a tropical vacation with your besties, but it has its own merits. You can save some money, cook for yourself, go on walks with your pets, frequent your favorite hometown spots, sleep in your own bed, catch up on your reading list, and just chill. With the semester in full swing and finals fast approaching, fully removing yourself from the College and relaxing at home might be one of the best things you can do for yourself. 

Is it just me, or is everyone cuter in class?

Contained, temporary social spaces — airports, offices,  classrooms, etc. — have a funny way of distorting your perception of attractiveness. Suddenly, the most mediocre man alive is the most attractive person you’ve ever seen. You know he’s average, but you conjure up artificial desire anyway to make your life more interesting. Now, instead of being lulled to sleep by the voice of your lecturing professor, you can retreat into the recesses of your imagination and imagine raising a baby on a farm with this person you don’t know. So yes, the Classroom 10 is a real phenomenon. 

How do I decide between using a backpack or a tote bag? 

I don’t think there is any circumstance in which a tote bag is functionally better than a backpack, but I will humor you. Do you have to do any work today? Take a backpack. Is your purpose in leaving your room to look cute and socialize but accomplish nothing? Take a tote bag. I admit that backpacks may not be the most aesthetic accessory, but I’m not here to look cute. 

Do I have to give a tip on a takeout order that I am picking up myself?

Tipping culture has gotten out of hand, and it’s at the point where I’m struggling to remember what is normal. Did my mom give me $5 to hand the pizza delivery guy at the door as a child, or is it the Mandela effect? Was I seriously asked to tip at the movie theater concession stand? Historically, I’ve erred on the side of caution and tipped everywhere, but the times are a-changin’. Having had zero net income for the past three years, I don’t have the funds to offer 20 percent on top of an already overpriced coffee. My financial anxiety is so powerful that it now outweighs the social pressure I feel from the “select a tip amount” screen. What helps me sleep at night is the fact that the people whom I am no longer tipping receive a standard wage — not tipped minimum wage, which is the case for waitresses and waiters. So unless you feel particularly compelled to do so, I wouldn’t say you need to tip. 

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