Senioritis, as defined by Urban Dictionary, is a crippling disease of high school seniors, usually resulting in over-wearing of sweatpants and a generally dismissive attitude. My question is: can one get senioritis as a senior in college? I think I just diagnosed myself with this disorder.
In the medical field, ‘itis’ at the end of a word means inflammation. The thought of an inflamed senior usually leads the mind to another area entirely. So what is this senioritis, exactly, and why does it affect students who are almost done with school?
My research takes me to the social Mecca of Twitter. Many tweets can be seen saying, “I really wish I didn’t have to worry about school anymore . . . so over it #senioritis” and “didn’t study for Econ and didn’t read for English #senioritis.” What about college students? We must be immune to such a juvenile disease.
Of course we are not immune. This disease is crippling, and honestly, it can only be cured one way: graduation. Yet senioritis, crippling inflammation, can definitely get in the way of graduation. Is there a prescription or prophylactic immune booster to help? Not really.
There is no magic button to switch it on and off. There can be flare-ups of symptoms during times of high stress (sounds a lot like another type of inflammation), and these must be handled one by one as they come.
I like to think of school as a rather large interstate. We are all getting on the freeway at different points and taking our exit as we see fit. We all cruise at our own speed; some of us go 50 in the far right lane, taking 10 years to graduate, while others go 150 in the far left and go to medical school at age 15. Most of us cruise in the middle lane, doing the speed limit and following the flow. I know sometimes my cruise control feels a little bit broken.
You may ask, “How do I know if I am suffering from such a terrible condition?” Well, here is how I started my self-diagnosis.
About two weeks into spring 2013, I realized that I would stop studying and stare at a wall for extended periods of time. Motivation came in the form of two Red Bulls and a 24-ounce coffee.
Two more weeks into the semester, I noticed a slight onset of spring fever, which is a dangerous feeling in this dreary winter state. I would start staring at the wall and would soon picture a beach and a daiquiri in one hand. Upon coming back to reality, the Red Bull was usually in one hand, with my feet propped on my desk.
Two more weeks into the semester, here I am. Homework is getting done and tests are being taken, yet time is passing oh-so-slowly, and I find myself sucked into the Tweet Mecca, saying things like, “Hmm . . . 45 minutes into this assignment and I have only my name . . . which is spelled wrong . . . #senioritis!”
As seniors in college, many of us wonder what will happen when we are cured of this disease and have walked across the mighty stage of secondary education. I think this can be a contributing factor to the senioritis. I realize that I have two months left of school and think about getting a job and becoming an adult; this thought usually sends me into minor cardiac arrest (another usual yet unusual symptom).
I know that I have to get out of the warm bed and go to class. How do I do it?
I haven’t figured that part out yet. Must be muscle memory mixed with the mass amounts of caffeine jump-starting my heart each day as I head off to brave the icy yet inviting school sidewalks.