And I’m finally a senior. It is seriously the strangest feeling I have ever encountered. I’d always kind of expected that once senior year rolled around, I’d be about seven feet tall and have some magical aura around me that made everyone move out of my way. At least, that’s what the seniors have been like for the past three years. But for some reason, the power-granting gods seem to have forgotten about us this year. I can’t even make my way through the human barrier in the quad because half the freshmen are bigger than I am – my own baby brother included.
In fact, the only difference between this year and all the others is that now everyone expects me to act like an adult. Remember being really little, when every year on your birthday some relative would ask if you felt any older, and before you could tell her no, she’d answer her own question: “Of course you do!” and slobber all over your cheeks? It’s like our childhood was brutally robbed from us in the night.
The College Admissions offices of the world have suddenly taken control of my life. When I’m not doing extensive amounts of work that are supposed to “prepare (me) for college-level classes,” I’m sorting through countless applications or trying to figure out what one experience I’ve had that tells my life story and is significant enough to impress a bunch of strangers. And I used to think English 9 was a lot of work! Underclassmen, I warn you now: enjoy the monotony of high school while you can. The day will come when being clueless is no longer an excuse for anything.
I’m telling you, I’m not that much older now than I was three months ago! Please, give me a teddy bear, a Hercules video, and some apple juice in exchange for all this.
Of course, it is nice at times. It’s really exhilarating to know where everything is, who everyone is, what everything is like. I even know of one junior who couldn’t find his class on the first day of school. Although I didn’t know what room “I-4” was either, I like to think I wouldn’t have gotten lost. And “I had to walk my brother to his classroom” was an excellent excuse for my six tardies that day.
We have to grow up sometime. For now, I can just smile and nod along with the whole process. Maybe some platform shoes would make me feel bigger. Or maybe I’ll get up one day and the mirror will shout “Look, I’m old!”
Until then, I’ve promised myself to enjoy the chaos while it lasts. Because pretty soon, I really will have to grow up.