By Anabel Pasarow
Being a senior freaks me out. As an underclassman I saw (most) seniors as effortlessly and unattainablely cool. They were automatically made way more awesome because of their age despite their probable normalcy.
From my newly aerial view, I know now that being a senior isn’t as glamorous as certain Facebook photo albums make it out to be. I find myself at a crossroads between fear of being older and total excitement at the prospect.
I question whether I’m ready to begin my last year in high school as the impending college send-off plagues me with nerves. I have resolved to appreciate every last moment I have here.
Too often, time passes me by during the school year. I think strictly in terms of due dates, and my longing for the weekend inhibits my presence in the “now.”
I am hereby inaugurating a new school year resolution: even if dreading an AP Environmental Science oral presentation, I shall not waste the preceding days being totally consumed by anxiety. I will savor each day apart from said dread and then allow, like, 15 minutes to freak out beforehand.
I stare at this Word document, and attentive sophomores stand by waiting to be assigned Photoshop tasks. The authority is equal parts scary and great. I like the power, but I sort of miss the lack of responsibility and the ability to rely on seemingly qualified older people. I can only hope that I look like I know what I’m doing and that I can be reliable.
I hope to make the best out of my last year on the Chronicle, and I hope to do my fellow seniors proud, regardless of whether or not underclassmen think I’m cool.
I want to challenge myself and to enjoy every last class and free period that I have. I want to grow as a person this year too. Bring it on! I combat all things scary in my future. I welcome the new with a little bit of trepidation but with a mostly open mind.
And I’m excited to wear a wreath on my head at Ring Ceremony.