Bubbles of Restlessness

The time of here has come when all I want to do is grow wings and fly far, far away.

Throughout my childhood, I had always assumed that "spring fever" meant that my eyes would become red and watery, and I would have marathon sneezing attacks with excessive allergies brought on by the pollen of new life.

While I still have those annoying allergies, I did find out the real meaning of spring fever.

My senior year in high school I found myself with a bad case, and as a result I completely stopped doing work my last quarter of school, knowing that I had already been accepted to college, and no one would even bother to look at my transcripts. Consequently, my dad did look at those grades, and was not happy at all. However, when he found this out during the middle of summer, my graduation robe had already been turned in, and the checks from relatives had already been put safely in my bank account.

Now, as I face that same fate, and am greatly tempted to just slack off, and I can't help but wonder why I just don't seem to have the urge to finish strong. I could blame it on the spring sun that is luring me to lie down beneath it, or all those final memories that I want to make before I rush off to the adult world, but sadly, I suspect that beneath all that, there is more.

I only find it slightly ironic that all the major things that I have quit in my life have occurred in spring...my sophomore year I quite the softball team, my freshmen year in college I quit the gospel choir, and my first senior year in college I decided to quit everything and move to Thailand for the year. Now, as the start of May kicks off, I don't find it strange that I spent an entire afternoon looking at cheap flights out of LAX to anywhere but here.

The thought of not having to deal with my honors project, marching at graduation or turning in my final portfolios is actually more tempting than it I know it ought to be. I suppose I know that I am not the only one who has caught this bad case of senioritis, and I know even more so that it seems to always come on when I feel that I am nearing the completion of something. I have no doubt that my body is telling me that it is time to close this chapter, and move on to the next thing. Perhaps I am just a little early on the memo.

At any rate, even though every fiber in my body is telling me to jump on a jet plane or slink off early to the life that I know awaits me, I at least have the sense to nag at myself, because I know that either way, my dad will see the final grades. And of course, like with everything, I know that most of this isn't about me. A good chunk of what I do is outside of myself, and I need to make him proud. Especially for the times when I just can't see across the finish line that he is standing at the end of, cheering me on.