Sunday, November 7, 2010

Every little thing she does is magic.

And so begins the journey towards perfect.
I don't think your average high-schooler consciously thinks about perfect often, but the goal of high school is just pushing us to perfect.
Who's the best at this? Who's the best at that? Is your ACT score higher than mine? Are you going to a Top 5 magnate school? Who's good? Who's better? Who's best?

Precisely.
Adults tell us to try our best and don't stress out because everything's gonna be okay.
My PE teacher has actually started to check in on me. He asks me how I'm doing and how much homework I have. He tells me that I have to relax and try not to break my brain because, you know, I can only do so much.
I tell him that I try to get enough sleep, try to keep my brain intact, stay away from alcohol and drugs because they don't solve my geometry problems for me. He laughs and smiles, but I still think he's worried. And my situation isn't even close to the worst.

I once made a list of all the things I wished I could do. Get a superhighsupercool GPA. Obtain a free ride to my college of choice. Appease my parents, help my brother. Have a life (yeah, haha). If only they actually helped me achieve all of those goals. Yeah, it didn't.

I spend my free time planning out my life. Today, to take a break from brainbreaking geometry, I recolor-coded my four-year high school career plan. (And yes, by recolor-coding I mean that I've color-coded it already. It just wasn't schmancy enough, let's face it.) I printed it out, made a key, and went colored-pencil happy with filling in boxes for courses I would take.
And yes, I had fun.
I also had fun converting grams to liters using the mole. For chem, naturally.
Anyway, since the beginning of middle school, I've known where I'm going to live, what I'm going to do, where I'm going to go, but this doesn't assist me in my goal of perfect.
I have friends who are so amazingly good at every little thing they do, and I think they wish for perfect, too.

BUT GUESS WHAT, HIGH SCHOOL.
Nobody's perfect.

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