I Wish I Had Senioritis

Oh, senioritis. How I wish you would whisk me away into a world of college daydreams with no worries. A place where I could sleep through third hour, not stressing about ACT practice tests or SR2QRs. Where the only thing on my calendar is the football game Friday and a nail appointment because “I’m a senior and I can treat myself.”

This world is not far away, and many of my peers have already been engulfed into it. However, no matter how perfect it may sound, I’m not ready.

I’m not ready to say goodbye to “King Braasch” chants every Friday night. Because I know when the lights die down on that last playoff game, the nights spent icing my ankle after “going bananas” at the SM North stadium will be the ones I miss most.

I’m not ready to walk across the basketball court in my extra large warmup jersey on senior night, arm-in-arm with my parents. Because I know my dad will be sobbing while thinking about coaching me in GABL as a kid, after watching the last basketball game I’ll ever play.

I’m not ready to walk across that stage at North – in the always-beautiful columbia blue – to shake Dr. McKinney’s hand and most likely hear my name pronounced “Hize.” Because I know that after graduation on May 15, I won’t see the friends and family who have morphed me into who I am today. They will be dispersed around the world, some hundreds of miles away.

I wish I had senioritis.

No matter how odd that may sound, I wish I was ready for a new beginning. Don’t get me wrong, I see glimpses of this senior world. I drift in-and-out of a life away from dumb “he said, she said” drama and 7 a.m. Saturday soccer practice on the frosted turf. And this alternate world may – and probably will – sweep me away come February or so.

But for now, I live in a world of 10 p.m. nights in the J-room, flipping between fits of crying and laughing because of how slap-happy us journalism kids all are. A world where covering myself in purple, green, gold and beads while dancing in a cafeteria full of freshman at a Link Crew Dance sounds like a pretty fun night. I’m not ready for this to all be just memories.

It’s not that I’m scared to go to college and make new friends or that I will be living on my own. It’s not that I will miss the two minute drive to Missouri for cheaper gas. It’s not even that I will have to budget myself to about $10 a week and still somehow feed myself –goodbye Chipotle burritos.

It’s more about being away from home, knowing I won’t get to lay in my favorite crevasse in the couch, covered in the red blanket with the tear in it, watching “Say Yes to the Dress.” Knowing that I won’t get to come home after school to my mom’s famous chocolate chip cookies and my dog Lulu’s “scary” barking. Home is just not an easy goodbye. And neither is high school.

To the seniors reading this who haven’t hopped on this cloud drifting you away to graduation yet, I’ll be here with you. I’ll savor every dance to “Uptown Funk” at Prom with you and cry during our senior night speeches with you, because we don’t want to leave. I want to throw myself into everything this year with all I have: losing my voice at football games and feeling sick after an eating competition at a pep assembly. I’d be honored to stand next to every one of you during it all.

And to all seniors or even underclassmen who have checked out already, I hope that you at least stop and appreciate how great the East community is every once in a while. No other school has the largest student-run volunteer organization in the country or the best in-school coffee shop ever. I know you have your eyes set on college and getting out of the immature ways of high school, but we do pretty amazing things at this school, and that’s something you shouldn’t brush aside. 

So, yes, this alternative world might be filled with un-banned Otis Spunkmeyer cookies and the freedom of no curfew. However, I’ll happily take whole wheat pizza at lunch and sub par smelling science hallways. East is my home for now, and I’m not saying goodbye yet.