I'm riding in the back of my Dad's blue truck, sitting next to my Mom. My dad is driving and my sister is sitting up front. My mom is mad at me because she just found out I haven't been refrigerating my acidophilus (look it up).

We are on College Avenue and my dad just turned onto Fraser Street to take me to the back entrance of The Daily Collegian office after Thanksgiving break.

Mom is mad at me, but not because I failed to store my live yogurt cultures in a cool place.

She's mad because something is stealing me away from her and it seems to keep winning. She gives me that face that I can feel myself making when I'm mad I don't have the answer.

But she smiles and kisses my cheek and reminds me of something she does know: "See you in three weeks."

She sees me walking into a grey office. I don't know what karmic forces made me choose this for a career, but Sundays are not off and I don't know a nice way of telling my mother that this damn 24-hour news cycle won't wait for her to make me pancakes in the morning before we leave.

I don't have a lesson to teach you. I'm not saying spend more time with your family or take your vitamins and eat your vegetables, because I've recently realized just how little I really know myself. I have no answers.

If I had all the answers I wouldn't yell out old people things as exclamations like "Mylanta!" and "good grief."

I wouldn't play "Single Ladies" on repeat on YouTube in the Web Cave and drive my fellow Web editor up our green twinkle-light cave walls. (Ian, I apologize now for the Rob Thomas, Katy Perry and Jason Mraz stints.)

If I had the answers, my writing utensil at the office wouldn't be a 7-inch metallic green pen.

I wouldn't bookmark a 24/7 online Shiba Inu puppy cam and stare at it when I'm flustered (http://www.ustream.tv/channel/shiba-inu-puppy-cam).

I wouldn't yell "Trodgor!" for stress relief. And if I had all the answers, I would definitely not be in a Facebook relationship with video editing software.

And even if I did have all the answers I would most definitely, absolutely, positively not give them to you.

That part everyone has to do for themselves.

But I'll tell you what I do know. I know that when I walked back into The Daily Collegian after Thanksgiving break, I saw people and not a grey office.

I saw Maloney, Julia, Jill, Ian, Zitzman, Nate, Terry, Shorts, Eller and so many of you that I've shared a laugh with and I thank the stars above for you every day.

I know that laughing and seemingly meaningless jokes have kept me from reaching the stress boiling point because Lord knows if I didn't laugh, I would have cried till I flooded the banks of the Mississippi.

I know that I love sports editor Kevin Zitzman probably a little bit more because he makes fun of my herbal medicines.

I know that Julia Chapman and I are playing a trick on fate by being friends and I love every single minute of it. And I know that I am lucky because despite the hell, I love my job.

OK, so maybe I do have a lesson here, even if it is accidental.

Just know what is important to you.

For me, that's people: my family, my Runkle bunch and the friends I just happen to work with.

And I know that in eight days I will see my mother getting out of the blue truck, ready to pack up my room and leave this place, this campus, this office, this surrogate home.

And I know that even though I will help keep Kleenex from ever needing a federal bailout plan, I will remember the people that I love, and in my heart I can be happy with only that.

Erin Prah is a senior majoring in journalism and until 6:15 a.m. today was The Daily Collegian's Web chief. Her e-mail address is eep5004@psu.edu.