Disproving Senioritis

I believe the entire concept of Senioritis must be a lie, because I have brilliantly disproved it. By “brilliantly,” I mean that I have utterly doomed myself to an unending work cycle under the blasted delusion of optimism. It’s 2:12 AM on a Sunday and all I can say is that I needed a break from online government work, so I am writing a warning to any who will read – do not ever take a ten credit course-load in high school. If you take general credits you may actually get some sleep, but don’t try to populate a routine with five AP courses, honors classes and two periods of ensemble studies (so tired as to forgo the Oxford comma).

If this seems a tad dismal for the wee hours of the morning, I apologize, as my vision seems, ah, there’s a word for it, it’s like milkglass… opaline. I understand that this live writer assumes that the word doesn’t exist and would rather have “opalescent” in its place, but Faulkner didn’t write that. See, that is what classes and sleep deprivation do to a person; you recall books from previous years just for a specific piece of diction or some idea or another just to understand the situation at hand, yet nothing comes out of it other than the conclusion that there is still work to be done and this particular distraction is merely that, a distraction and exemplification of procrastination.

It’s not that I’m lazy; I’m just not a lazy person, but I’m tired, and tired does not sit well. It makes one feel old, ages older than time decrees. The joints ache and the head aches and doesn’t remember well.

So please take that advice: overwork reaps no rewards, and “Nothing comes of nothing.” Too much work as a child, even in preparation for adulthood, only deprives the childhood and the basis of experience, naivety. Leave “work” to the matured and have fun some time.

Now I’m charged with returning to work after this tangent without bothering to proofread. Farewell for now, developments will continue as planned until this site makes more sense.