Today is the very last full day (and last Friday) of high school forever. But while most people are passing yearbooks and laughing through class, I feel like I am the only one who isn't. I suppose that's what has really been bothering me most about this being the last week of school. High school has a miserable ending no matter what grade you are in. They work you to the last day, then you take your finals and it just...ends. No parties, no gatherings around after school, nothing. The bell rings, for the final time, and we leave, dismissing everything. People pull out of the parking lot as if we'll be back the next day. The last week of your senior year should be a breeze. Classes should be reserved for yearbook signing and the nights should be long hours of hanging out with the closest friends that you might not ever get a chance to hang out with again. But it isn't like that. At least, it hasn't been like that for me. And where have I been? I've been staying up late finishing projects, getting here early to finish homework, sitting by my self in class studying, and while everyone else is talking and signing, I'm trapped under a book titled Deadline. I've got two hard finals ahead of me, one of which might well determine if I enter college with a deficient--you can guess the subject, I'm sure. It just doesn't seem fair to me that everyone else has permission to slack off and enjoy their last week while I am still busting my butt, trapped between school work and a job. And I have to admit, in absolutely no anger or insult to Mr. Miller, that it bothered me immensely that the seniors had to practice Pomp and Circumstance. We won't be there to play it with the band, so it seemed absolutely pointless for us to practice. Especially when I have needed every precious minute to finish this or that, when my yearbook is still sitting with pages vacant, waiting to be signed by the people I've shared such an incredible year with. It's a silly, trifle thing to be mad about, I know it, but there it is none the less. Anyways. I'm in photojournalism now, math class done and over with. I didn't get to do an extra credit project because I've been working so hard for my english project, then the story for theatre, and I worked last night so I didn't even have time to make a poster then. Yesterday was Friday, today is a falacy. I'm not ready for it. Why can't graduation be another week away? Please? Just give me one more week, one more week and then I'll be on top of things, organized, prepared. Just one more week. No? Fine then; such is life. I guess there's nothing left to say, other than the underlying truth that, behind all this complaining and worry and even fear, the fact of the matter is that I am just not ready to leave. I'm not ready to be a little fish again and I am definitely not ready to live a day without seeing all the wonderful faces I see now. I am going to miss everyone so damned much. It's the same old story--why couldn't this have begun earlier? Why did we wait to be friends till now? I bumped into Zach on the way to class. He's gotten taller, hair has gotten longer, but he's still got that incredible smile. That ear-to-ear grin that lets you know that he truly is happy to see you, happy to know you. I think his voice has gotten a little louder. Not much, but slowly and surely I think he's coming out of his shell. Still with Ashley; been a year now, he told me. I'm happy for him. People like that deserve good things. Well, I guess it's time to step out of this pensive mood. Thanks again for saving my mind, Diary. Without you, I would be a big bomb of emotion. xoxo Carrie cheers to 05