Are you feeling stressed? Do you use the word stressed more than three times a day? Are you in high school? If so then you are overstressed and underage. Too young to drive with anyone under the age of 25, but old enough to write more than the average person speaks. Can you believe the pressure in these fall and winter months. Us high school students have a pick of any school we would like to name as our first choice university, but do we really have any way of knowing that we won't work so hard that we'll faint if we take one more standardized test?......and get the results. I am not speaking for the 4.0 student nor am I talking about the "am I going to graduate student?“. I am an advocate for those of us that have fallen in between, mediocre SAT or ACT scores, does exceptionally well on those 40 minute timed responses in AP English class, and an occasional D or C on a progress report isn't a total shocker to our parents. We often wonder at times if we have a future, because we just won't accept Community College as a option that can set us free from our parents' midnight lectures, but there are times when we get happy because we got accepted to our 42ND choice school, on a provisional basis. Provisions,...Ha! Who needs them? I don't. Does anybody out there have any sympathy. Hello,.... I'm dying here.
Whoever said your junior year is your hardest must have been telling a joke that none of his burnt out friends got. Not only as seniors do we have to keep up with required coursework, but also any insignificant assignments those aliens disguised as caring teachers throw at us, but we also have to do a dozen college applications. We barely have enough time to fight with our mothers, feed our dogs, and go to an occasional movie, but that's not good enough is it? You college admissions officers want every minuscule amount of time to go to striving to get in UC Berkeley so that when you finally reject us you can savor the sweet joy that you have by ruining our lives. Don't worry I'll see you at the local gas station harassing you until you let me wipe your windshield.
So what's the point of this? Why am I saying this? Why am I making you sound like a hired killer? Why do I keep saying why? It's simple all I want is a little slack!!!!!!!!!!