It is no secret that senioritis, like cancer, has no current cure. It lurks unknown in the host until they are most susceptible.

Every year, seniors begin to spiral towards their demise as the school year comes to a close. Their once important classes now dwarf in comparison to college aspirations and the greater world.

As its name suggests, senioritis begins at the school. 

As students’ time in high school comes to a close, they reach a metaphorical mud pit that is the last year of school. College applications stand in students’ path, and they struggle writing and applying and writing and applying until they reach a point of mental exertion. The finish line is just in sight, but the final months of the school year seem to stretch as far as the Sahara.

Seniors become less and less engaged, classes falling to the wayside, grades drop and they barely scrape by: A’s and B’s turning into C’s and D’s.

Their social lives stagnate, as seniors can no longer tolerate fellow high schoolers’ tendencies. Seniors are left to brood and ferment in their ripe teenage musk at both the school and at home.

At work, they find no pleasure in their contributions to the great capitalist machine, our blood-gold god, with which we, the working class, are one. The mythic minimum wage does not satisfy them, and yet they toil away just the same, their faces turned down: sunken.

The senioritis takes hold of every aspect of the student’s life. They are driven to madness while witnessing the joyful nature of freshmen walking through the halls during passing time because they do longer have joy of their own. Now chronically absent, the student makes the easy choice to crawl further under the covers of their bed just after snoozing their alarm, a harsh reminder of the world, ignored as they drift back into the sweet, calm nothingness of sleep.

Yet there is still a hope for seniors.

A total tonal change must occur for these suffering seniors to push through. They must repeatedly lie to themselves and employ doublethink to convince their minds that four weeks is not that long, that the finish line is right there and that they are almost, if not already, adults.