I cannot physically think of everything I need to do and remember. Obviously just about every other senior in the world feels the same, and I’m not trying to set myself up as an object of compassion…merely establishing the fact that I am no different than the barely-existing, senioritis-inflicted population of graduating high school seniors.
These next few days are going to be extremely stressful (I’m saving the adjective “hellish” for when we near finals week). My only consolation is that we’re going on our senior trip Thursday through Saturday. Unfortunately that is an excruciating four and a half days away. It sadistically amuses me how stressed we grow over certain ordeals, professing imminent death. We survive (barely in some cases), but only to see another swell rising higher than the one before it. I think life is like the ocean, we mount the waves that seem mountainous and ready to overpower us. But we survive and make it to the lull on the other side. Then the water rushes away from us again and we are swept into a higher wave, certain death is near. Yet we live. The waves continue to get higher and higher each successive time. But the question remains…do the waves continue to grow higher, or do they even out into a stretch of glisteningly peaceful waters? My pores are getting waterlogged. I hope, without expectation of realization, that it is the latter.