So far senior year is proving to be the most tolerable of my high school years. It’s still high school —I don’t think that statement needs further explanation—but there is a distant light on the horizon called college, and, thankfully, that light is quickly approaching.
With the anticipation of next year, however, comes the stress
of making it
to next year—and that includes a seemingly endless landslide of college applications, homework, clubs, after school jobs—and other responsibilities.
I've a compiled a (relatively) short list of pointers from my own, limited experience on how to balance
1. To start with, make lists!
I make monthly, weekly, and daily lists, and place tasks in order of importance. Sometimes I even color-code….
2. Allow yourself more time than you expect will be necessary.
As my senioritis
has begun to set in, I have found this rule increasingly relevant…leaving half-an-hour for a three-hour project never works out as well I hoped.
3. READ THE FINE PRINT—MULTIPLE TIMES.
I was hoping to apply to my top college choice early action…what I failed to realize until two weeks before the deadline was that the Arts Supplement calls for ten pieces of quality artwork. (My portfolio consists of about three.)
If I had taken the time to thoroughly read the guidelines over the summer, I could have planned
4. Keep coffee in mind as an available substitute for sleep.
Jokes aside, between homework, clubs, tennis, college applications, hobbies, friends, and an after school job, my sleep quota
has been reduced from a solid eight hours to a questionable six-and-a-half. Coffee helps. (Just don't overdo
5. Remember that it’s only college.
I realize that sentence goes against everything they've been telling us for the past two years, but when you really think about it, it’s surprisingly true.
My mom likes to tell me that I will “end up where I’m meant to be,” and I actually think she’s right.
panic attacks I also like to remind myself that if all else fails, I can always buy a plane ticket to some European city and become a starving artist. Or move to Vermont and raise chickens.
At least I’ll have something to write about.