Homecoming 2K17 has come and gone, and my senior year is flying past me. The first nine weeks is almost over, my library book is almost overdue, and my bedroom almost needs cleaned, so when do things start ending? Homecoming week was a testament to the beginning of the end.

Welcome to my Monday. I arrived at school feeling pretty cute, only to remember that it was supposed to be hat day. Not a huge deal that I forgot a hat, but it was my last Homecoming week, and I was kind of bummed. On to Tuesday where I was scheduled to speak at a Rotary meeting. I, therefore, couldn’t dress up in camo because I had to look spiffy for the presentation. Not to mention the fact that I actually do not own a piece of camo clothing. Now on Wednesday it would seem like I would have this whole dress-up thing figured out. Pajama day: can’t go wrong there, except that I woke up extremely tired. It would not have been the most intelligent thing for me to go to school in pajamas, especially when the odds were already very high that I would fall asleep. Skipping to Thursday resulted in throwback clothes. Clearly my best choice of outfit would be to “throwback” to the time I bought this amazingly-comfy sweater, so that is what I did. Finally it was Friday, meaning I wore my school’s black and gold. Just kidding. I had an interview that morning and totally spaced Homecoming week, again.

My chance for redemption came in the weekend festivities. I enjoyed the football game in the concession stand, where I proceeded to carry on a conversation with at least every other customer. Saturday night, I went to the dance in my four inch heels and completely blew everyone away with my incredible dancing skills. (Okay, one of those things is true.) My friends and I had an amazing time being ourselves and not noticing the stares that come with such talent. By the end of the night, we were all sweaty, but smiling. The joy of dancing a night away with close friends is incomparable to anything else I have experienced in high school. However, my Sunday landed me with five hours of homework.

This odd, but true, anecdote is trying to prove that even people with the best intentions can lose sight of their goals. The week before Homecoming, I was very excited to participate in my last year of festivities. I loved seeing all the other participants rocking their outfits, but my week simply slipped out from under me. While I can not say I overcame the senioritis in my week, for example writing this article the night before, I can say the joy of playing powderpuff football boosted my ego way too high. The energy of my class winning football for the fourth year in a row soared my week above any minor exhaustion. The happiness I felt presenting at Rotary with my peers in Parnassus made my day so much better and made me so proud of them. The calm I felt talking to my friends cooled my nerves about my stressful week. Most of all, the “realness” of my senior year has become abundantly clear to me, and I am loving every second of it.