I dislike "lasts": the last cookie in the cookie jar, the last pair of black flats that my mom bought for me, the last day of school. The last day of school... I can’t believe that my sophomore year of high school has just ended. It seemed just yesterday that I had entered high school, wide-eyed and innocent, fearful of what was to come. In a blink of an eye, two years have passed and my high school career is almost half over.
I usually feel nostalgic during the last couple weeks of school, but I can’t seem to place that feeling this year. I figure that the people I would miss I would see throughout the summer anyways and that everyone else I would see the following September when we all returned to school as juniors.
I can't imagine what it would feel like to be a senior on the last day of school. The knowledge that commencement would be the last time you would see many of the peers you had gone to school with and essentially grown up with must be frightening. That much I could determine, yet, I couldn’t put myself in a senior’s shoes. Instead, I relished the fact that I had two more years before I’d have to experience it for real.
This year, nostalgia seemed to have been chased out by exam stress. I earn good grades most of the time, but that’s only because I study and review quite a bit. Lately, I’ve been finding it difficult to sit down and just study. It doesn’t help that one of my neighbours is resurfacing his/her driveway and is currently cutting bricks. The buzzing noise is slowly driving me crazy.
Whenever my mom sees that I’m stressed, she goes out of her way to make me more comfortable. Hence the whole wheat bagels, orange juice, and fresh fruit—breakfast brain food at its best.
Oh, how I love my mom.