I’ve been infected. Just like hundreds of thousands of other students across the nation, I have succumbed to this deadly disease. It’s one of those illnesses that sneaks upon an unsuspecting host; the symptoms lie dormant and only appear at the most inconvenient times. I’m sure you have already contracted it as well. In fact, just by seeing these letters and reading these couple of sentences, you may have already experienced a shiver or two, possibly some chills, maybe a bout of sudden sweating. Perhaps, you’re so ill to the point that you were unable to even bring yourself to read this column. That’s right, it’s senioritis. (For those rare few, innocent readers that have no idea what I’m talking about, well, consider this a public service announcement).

Senioritis: (noun) 1. A supposed affliction of students in their final year of high school, characterized by a decline in motivation or performance.

Experts say that only seniors in high school are inflicted with this disease; in reality, it doesn’t matter whether you’re 15 or 45 years old—you’re not safe at all.

I’m a second-semester senior. Senioritis has plagued my soul for a while now, as it has with some of my fellow classmates. Unfortunately, there’s no known cure for this horrendous affliction; one can only hope and stay self-driven to keep this sickness at bay. For me, college admissions is my anchor, the sole thing that has kept me “responsible” in the time being.

Senioritis has hit me so hard that this little, 250-word column, took me more than three hours to write.

Adieu,

Michelle Bau