I have severe Senioritis. And no, it does not fall under the category of "Amber's Obscure Medical Conditions"... However, my teachers are not letting my Senioritis run it's course. Things I have to do this week? Mentorship board, 500 word paper, FRQ (GET REAL, Mr. Olivo. The AP Exam is over. And FYI, I never cared about your class anyway), and of course the never-ending, ridiculous amount of English prose I am supposed to be reading. Mr. Williams, please take note when I say, "You are so very old that you may very well have peer edited Mr. Shakespeare's greatest works."
I have waited four years for my time. My time to sit back, relax, and take endless naps in Gov't (which Mr. Levi has gladly allowed, mad props to your mad chillaxin skillz). Hearing the Freshmen, Sophomores, and Juniors squuuueeeeeee about watching Marley and Me and Slumdog Millionaire really makes me cringe. Actually, not even hearing them. Just the sight of them. Have you kids ever heard of Public Display of Affection? OH! Of course you have because you're making babies on my locker. ShooSH!! And really, do I need to push any more of you day after day before you get the point that, YOU are in my way. And everybody elses for that matter. Skedaddle!!
...Okay, despite the fact that I am rarely AT school, the time that I am there I would like to spend either a) watching a new DVD release b) shooting the breeze with the newly insane Nazi-esque librarians or c) letting my fellow classmates know just how VERY glad I will not be seeing them anymore once June 17th comes (and OH PS you guys, I do NOT CARE that you didn't receive your 1 or 2 or 3, etc. And No, I will not cut out a 7 for you because you lost yours).
Never fear fellow slackers! For there is a cure for Senioritis. What is it? Forging your father's signature to get out of school. Everyday.
