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Winter break sucked.

NOWAITDON’TYELLATME.

Just let me explain.

Hot off of the first semester of my first year at Brandeis, I craved the constant stimulation of being on a college campus; the luxury of always having a friend around to talk to, to watch a movie with or to have a drink … of milk with at any time, regardless of the hour.

Somewhere in the midst of my thousandth game of brick-breaker, sixth season of “How I Met Your Mother” and my 105th conversation with my mom, as she tried to figure out if “nothing exciting” translated, in some cryptic way, to “I have found the love of my life. He is Jewish, pre-med and we are engaged to be married next week,” I realized that I was just about done with winter break.

I was praying to return to my cozy room in Usen, to the warm embraces of my new friends, to Sherman! Well, maybe not Sherman … but you get what I mean.

I was counting down the days until my fateful return to Waltham and the new life that I had grown to love, until the day came for my return.

I sat through the six-hour train ride, from Trenton Transit Center to South Station, lugged my stuffed suitcases into a taxi and wiggled in my seat all the way to Brandeis.

As the cab reached the final stretch of South Street, an overwhelming calm came over me.

I was finally going to be back, it was clear that soon, all would be right in the world, and it was …

Just kidding.

As I jumped back into the life that I had missed so much, I started remembering some of the less savory pieces of life at Brandeis.

Like that constant nagging feeling that you have something to do, and the accompanying realization the next morning that you were right.

This transition from lethargy to constant engagement was a hard one for me. I went from my schedule of sleeping 10 hours per day and playing the “how many days can I wear the same pair of pajama pants without anyone noticing” game, to being in a perpetual state of engagement, stretching myself just a little too thin.

Two weeks into the new semester, I realize that I may have spoken too soon.

I don’t know about anyone else here at Brandeis, but I wouldn’t mind a few mindless games of brick-breaker, or a season or three of “How I Met Your Mother.”

I guess the moral of this story is the same as the much quoted line in Joni Mitchell’s classic song, “Big Yellow Taxi:” “don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ’till it’s gone.”

Unfortunately, winter break is very much gone, and I don’t think that any huge blocks of time suitable for watching hours of mindless television are in my future.

But maybe I’ll have a chance for a stray episode here or there and I will have to be content with that.

Oh winter break, we hardly knew thee.