Coming back from spring break can be confusing. You may find yourself trying to remember what classes you are enrolled in, how you spent $600 in one week and why you don’t remember taking any of the photos you just had developed. Coming back from break might also have you a little depressed. You could be eating less, sleeping more and staying in to watch the Soap Network on Friday nights. But things really aren’t that bad. Sure, the next spring break is an entire year away, but there are plenty of things coming up in the next year to look forward to. Being a Cyclone fan for the next 365 days should make things at least bearable until your next vacation, so cheer up. Remember, it’s only …

1 day until you finally catch up on the news and realize that Iowa State had five All-American wrestlers, Zach Roberson is a national champ, both the men’s and women’s basketball teams are alive in the National Invitation Tournament, sprinter Sheba Clarke earned All-American status and the ISU gymnasts earned second place in the Big 12. Not a bad little weekend;

91 days until you lose eight golf balls and shoot 113 on your municipal course, making you appreciate just how good the Cyclone golfers are;

160 days until you realize the Oklahoma Sooners are not on the football schedule, which will keep you from seeing the best team in the country in person, but will also save you from witnessing another 53-7 throttling of the Cyclones;

165 days until the Cyclone football team beats Northern Iowa to snap its 10-game losing streak;

179 days until Northern Illinois comes to town, reminding you of the last time Iowa State lost to a team by less than three touchdowns;

200 days until your roommate, who can’t seem to drag himself out of bed to get to his 11 a.m. lecture, wakes you up at 6 a.m. to start tailgating for the Homecoming game;

228 days until you stand ankle deep in mud holding two warm Keystones in a lot that has no bathrooms and is more tightly patrolled than the yard at San Quentin, all the while trying to look like you’re 21 instead of 19;

249 days until you see yourself on the Kiss Cam during the season finale, and, not wanting to be the only person in Kiss Cam history not to get a kiss, lean over and make out with the 49-year old with a NASCAR jacket, mullet and lip full of chew;

249 days until you ponder whether any two people who have been on the Kiss Cam actually knew/liked each other as you try to get the chew out from between your teeth;

250 days until you spend $10 on the Olympic pass, the best $10 you spend all semester;

252 days until you look down the ISU bench and notice that something big is missing from the team: Skogs;

257 days until you go to a wrestling meet and a gymnastics meet in the same weekend and notice you just saw two of the few sports that can be dominated by 125-pound athletes who aren’t jockeys;

263 days until you watch the Paulson twins dominate two more opponents, causing you to question whether they could beat the identical twins (both played by Jean Claude Van Damme) in Double Impact;

264 days until you feel proud to know that Hilton Coliseum is the only thing with that name that isn’t a frequent late night television punchline;

286 days until you realize that the Cyclone Alley is a quieter, less-caffeinated rip off of the Cameron Crazies. You feel better when you realize that the Crazies have 1,500 SAT scores and still pay $30,000 a year to go to school;

301 days until you laugh out loud thinking about Steve Alford’s haircut;

307 days until you see the intensity Bobby Douglas coaches with and concede that even though he wears a fanny pack, he could pin you in less than 20 seconds;

335 days until your terrible C-league intramural hockey team, a team that could lose to the Mighty Ducks even before they started believing in themselves, wins a game. You cancel your classes for the next day in the wake of the celebration;

358 days until you think to yourself about how much you miss Larry Eustachy’s NCAA tournament wins and how little you miss his mock turtlenecks;

365 days until you look back on a year of Cyclone sports, and, whether it was outstanding or mediocre, say, “Thank God I’m not a Baylor fan.”