Ice Week is an experience that those of us who watched it live could recall with ease, considering Starkville, Mississippi has snow on the ground for no more than four days a year.
Although this is a time that many college students remember fondly, the spring break that was not supposed to happen, some of us did not have that experience. And by us, I mean myself.
It was Feb. 13, a historically calm-before-the-storm kind of day. The girls and I decided to have a Galentine’s Day dinner to celebrate love and friendship for the holiday, before I celebrated Valentine’s with my boyfriend the next day.  
The girls and I had an incredible dinner. We laughed, ate delicious food and enjoyed one another’s company. It was good. I was good. Life was simple, and I had not, importantly, been cheated on by my boyfriend who I had Valentine’s plans with. I was blissfully unaware of the turn that the night and following week would take.
Two hours later — you guessed it — I found out that I had, in fact, been cheated on. The next day started a week stuck inside, as Starkville shuddered and heaved under the coming ice. 
This was the beginning of my least favorite week of my entire college life. 
Not 24 hours after my lovely Galentine’s, I found myself in a car with two of my best friends. To boost my morale, we had plans to grab some takeout and pile onto the futon in Nunnelee Hall to watch the new “After” film. Ice had begun covering the streets and every single restaurant in town had closed its doors. Despite their best efforts, morale was astronomically lower than it has been an hour prior, and was dropping still.
We woke up to winter wonderland in Zacharias Village. Students were rolling in the snow, building massive snowmen and having intense snowball fights. The scene could have come right out of a mediocre hallmark film about friendship during the holidays.
This was no Hallmark film, though. This was Starkville, Mississippi. It was also post-COVID, which meant that instead of having canceled classes, students had to attend classes via WebEx. Things only got worse. 
Virtual classes should have been the least of my worries. I, along with thousands of others, relied solely on the University for the majority of our meals. This became extremely problematic when only one dining hall was open with extremely limited resources.
After a slick and harrowing journey from Griffis Hall to the Perry Cafeteria, all I wanted was a yummy and warm meal. Perry usually pulls through, but not this time. The dining hall staff was doing their best with what they had. The ice and lack of resources were completely out of their control. We were served a questionable meal that consisted of brown rice with a combination of vegetables that probably should not have been cooked together. The portion was small, and there was not enough food to give anyone seconds.
All of the P.O.D.s around campus had run out of food, too. When they were able to restock, it was every man for himself in there. Luckily, I was able to snatch a cup of Easy-Mac in the chaos, “Hunger Games” style, and it was absolutely scrumptious after eating the mysterious rice and vegetable bowl.
The lack of food, sitting in on painfully long virtual classes and the getting-cheated-on debacle made for an incredibly difficult week. Winter wonderland or not, I shiver at the thought of ever experiencing another one.