The Life of an AP student (or maybe just me...)

I was drugged.

This is the only possible explanation as to why I was coaxed into taking not only AP biology (which is two hours a day, every day) but AP calculus as well.

My senior year of highschool.

Due to my extreme case of senioritis, I have encountered a lack of all motivation to do anything.

Ever.


All the time.

The amount of effort I put into doing my homework is comparable to the size of one fourth of a baby carrot. And not even a normal baby carrot. The tiny, shriveled, runt baby carrot at the bottom of the bag that no one will eat.

So my life really sucks the night before I have a biology/calculus test. I basically get home from school, walk to my room, and shut the door. I emerge seven hours later, after having completed all the homework and all of the book reading that was supposed to be done over a span of three and a half weeks. This usually gets me a 75 or so, and I rejoice to the heavens and then go back to doing nothing again.  

My method usually works out, but this is when I only have one test at a time.

Once or twice a year fate will decide to punish me for my laziness and bad study habits, and there will be two AP tests on the same day.

This EXTRA sucks, because that means I have fourteen hours of studying instead of the usual seven.

Fourteen hours of studying means getting home from school at 3:30 in the afternoon, starting right away, and studying until 5:30 the next morning. 

Yes. This really, really EXTRA sucks.

***

So it is 5:30 in the morning.

At this point I down an entire pot of coffee.

Literally an entire pot.

Twelve cups.

After twelve cups of coffee, I feel like fucking Rocky. I blast music really loud and start punching the air and screaming things like “YEAH LETS GO, BITCH! I GOT THIS! I GOT THIS! YOU STUPID FUCKING CHROMOSOMES! YOU STUPID FUCKING DERIVATIVES! IMMA KEEELLLLLLL YOU!! HERE THAT?? IMMA KILL YOU.”

After an all-nighter + two and a half hours of dancing and screaming, I am ready for this god forsaken day of the devil.



(the devil can't use correct punctuation apparently.)



I go.

I struggle.

I struggle some more.

I get up and pretend to blow my nose but really I’m comparing the amount of questions I’ve finished with everyone else’s.

I struggle even more.

I finish.

I pass out on the way to my car.

I wake up.

I drive home.

I sit on the couch, trying to remember how I got home.

I pass out before I come to an answer.

I wake up.

I go back to doing nothing again.

***