I don't know you, but I'd venture a guess that you spent this past week in a different time zone.

I bet you were sunbathing, margarita-sipping, ogling scantily clad bodies and dancing your butt off.

Or you flew off on a humanitarian mission to build houses or build coalitions, but at least it was closer to the equator than our sprawling, snow-filled campus.

You deserved it, because you worked so hard up until you turned in your boarding pass and stepped aboard a flight to your version of paradise.

And this part is priceless: You spent a week forgetting your Happy Valley identity, the identity you've accumulated over years of interaction with your peers.

Regardless of whether you did so consciously, you shed it like a snake sheds its skin. No longer were you someone's employee, someone's student, roommate, boyfriend -- for a week, you were just the chick from Pa. or the guy from the States. It felt good, didn't it?

Then, the dream ended.

You had to pack up your things and get back on a plane, back to your calendar full of meetings and exams, back to your arduous job. Back to the tentative relationships you left behind, back to the gray skies.

Back to everything you wanted to leave in the first place. Congratulations, you survived spring break, and now you're back.

But are you ready to be back? Hardly. You worked to get to spring break, it came and went, and you're left in the shadows of a really great trip. Left with bills, a fading tan, a hangover.

For some, it was the first spring break adventure.

Some of you are graduating. You counted down the days until spring break; now you're counting down the days until the semester ends.

For all of us, we have the arduous task of getting reacquainted with the mundane realities of daily life. It hurts to be back. I know.

There's no break to work for, so you're done working, right?

You're going to ease back into your schedule before hitting the gym. You might skip a couple of lectures because, damn it, you can't be expected to re-adjust this fast. Excuses come easily. It was a whole lot easier to get used to the hot sun and the ocean view, wasn't it?

Spending money on vacation is not the same as it is in State College. Especially if you have plastic in your wallet. Sooner or later, you'll be confronted with your bank account balance.

If not as you unpacked, you'll have addressed this question upon the stinging headache provided by your alarm clock: Why is it so hard to re-adjust to your life?

Maybe working for just this spring break wasn't the best way to look at it. Maybe the paradise you just returned from is what you should really be working toward now that you're back. Work all year, save your money, earn yourself a trip anywhere from Tahiti to Tahoe. Unlike a cheap plane ticket or an all-night happy hour ... it's more attainable. As long as you're willing to make sacrifices.

It's that whole give and take of work vs. play. It's like the angel and the devil on your shoulders playing tug of war with your ambition. You can make it work in your favor. Use that little devil as motivation. If you're distracted by the fresh-from-Cancun photos stacked on your desk, don't put them away. Focus on the smiles and the exotic elements and then return to your paper with renewed energy.

If you're tempted to take it easy and glide through the rest of the semester with C's, think about how much more you'll enjoy the next vacation if you had proof of scholastic diligence. Make the second half of spring semester productive -- it's rewarding -- and then you'll deserve another exotic vacation even more. The week you just experienced is someday going to fall into distant memories, kept in photos and postcards. But it doesn't have the be this way. If you're willing to work like never before, it could also be the start to something very cool -- a lifetime of travels. Or a new life in a new part of the world. So why not envision this spring break hangover as the motivation to afford it annually? Keep the photographs on your desk, but don't stare at them all day.

Wishes alone don't work: The more you dream, the harder you fall. You've never heard a success story involving a vision and no effort, have you? If you want it badly enough, you'll go back. If you want it badly enough, you'll attend classes and pay attention. You'll work all summer and save your money. And someday, you'll go back. You're the only one who has the power to determine how soon.