MIAMI — You probably look at that opening dateline and think I’m actually in Florida, but I’m not. I just wish I were there. My mother always said I had a good imagination. For the rest of Spring Break, it will be in full effect.

Like that time I killed my sister’s goldfish.

MOTHER: Glenn … why is the fish tank empty?

ME: We were out of cat food.

OK, maybe it’s not that good. In fact, now that I think about it my schoolwork has always suffered because of issues with my creativity. In second grade, we were asked to color a bunch of “elephants’ hides” any color we wanted. All my Dumbos came out with purple asses because I was retarded and misinterpreted the instructions.

But this week I’ll need every ounce of brain juice to compensate for my lack of beach. While the rest of you freaks get relaxation, sun and probably an STD or two, I’ll be driving to Vermont. My friend Johnathan wants to look at a graduate school up there. This is really the only week he can go, and I can’t get off work for enough days to travel anywhere of value. You get margaritas. I get maple syrup.

I will admit the college Spring Break is greatly undervalued. When else in your life is it considered the norm to get your body in the pinnacle of human goodness and then abuse it with every known form of alcohol and unprotected sex. Yeah, that makes sense.

I won’t have this problem. Granted I have been doing those extra sit-ups so that the 14-hour drive is a little more comfortable, but I don’t expect to see anyone attractive.

Yankee women don’t believe in makeup or proper hygiene. Plus, if there are any hot ones, they’ll all be in Cancun with you.

I don’t really even know what I’m thinking. The people I’m addressing here are already gone. I could probably walk across campus naked today and no one would notice. Well, except maybe the faculty.

PROFESSOR 1: Hey, is that a person streaking over there?

PROFESSOR 2: No, I’m pretty sure that’s just a bear. Although, I haven’t seen many bears with such a big …

PROFESSOR 1: Hat? Yes, I was thinking the same thing — odd for a bear to be wearing a hat this time of year.

PROFESSOR 2: Yes, yes. So shall we get back to doing our undergrads?

PROFESSOR 1: Of course.

There really isn’t a lot to complain about. March Madness just started, and I’m rarely as happy as when the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament is on. I’m also rarely as broke. I’m hoping Johnathan won’t notice all the cash I set aside for gas went into about 17 office pools.

What I haven’t spent on worthless gambling gone down the drain the minute the Tar Heels choke will be gone into the St. Patty’s Day fund. If I don’t get to drink and make a fool of myself during the break, you’d better believe I did it on Thursday. I’m actually writing this before the impending great drunken stupor, but just know this: If you’re an Irish Car Bomb, and you’re walking around a dark street corner tonight, don’t walk alone.

I’m coming to get you, and all your friends, too. That is unless you’re taking Jager home or something. That stuff just tastes like cough syrup too much to be good.

So what am I do while I sit in a tiny car for hours upon hours listening to probably some crappy mix CD Johnathan has made? No one should like Clay Aiken this much. I thought about bringing those finder games where you look for the hay bail, tractor and road signs. Then I realized I’d be no better than the one listening to Aiken.

I could bring a book, but I don’t really ever read anything. I do own books. But they’re really just there to show that I have the potential for reading. Potential is important these days you know.

There is my brother’s new Gameboy. He told me the Sponge Bob game was pretty sweet. However, it would be best not to lose him too by stealing his stuff. My sister doesn’t really acknowledge me after “the incident” with Huey, Dewey and Louie (her goldfish).

I suppose there really is no upside to not going to the beach for Spring Break. Even worse is I know my cool friends will drunk-dial me every five minutes to let me know they’re having fun.

FRIEND: Glenn! Are you still driving to Vermont? We’re sooooooooo wasted.

ME: Yeah, I am. What’s up?

FRIEND: Oh, nothing … just having the best time of my freaking life. Hey, I swear I just saw your mom here. Dude, she just walked by …

ME: I’m sure you did.

FRIEND: No really … HEY, GLENN’S MOM. WANNA PARTY WITH US???

ME: Look, I’m going now.

FRIEND: Dude, your mom is looking so good. Do you think your dad would mind if we … you know …

ME: I’m GOING now.

I expect a lot of this. Hopefully, there will be something interesting to do in Vermont. If not, I’ll just find some alcoholic syrup and hit on ugly Yankee girls.

I won’t be calling anyone about that.

— Glenn LaFollette is a super-senior in journalism and electronic media. He can be reached at [email protected].