I believe that tomorrow will be another day.
Today, I am a high school senior. I have seven classes, and on Wednesdays I have eight. I will go to tennis practice after school, and after that I will finish laying out the opinion page for the school newspaper. I will then return home and drowsily fall asleep on my unfinished homework, only to be surprised at 5 am tomorrow that I have six unread chapters of Grendel, two weeks-worth of lingering Statistics homework, a paper due on water distribution in the West, and 72 pages of Civics text left to read.
Yes, I believe tomorrow will be another day.
Tomorrow, I may be a college student. I will be mailing the first part of my application to Georgetown University. And, I am unnecessarily apprehensive. It’s silly, really, because it is just the Personal Data form; just preliminary procedures for my name, birth date, and trivial records. However, I am going to send it; and that is most stirring. This is it. There is a certain anxiety sending part of the application—the application that will create the folder for me, the folder that the admissions officers will open, the very people that “will shape my very future.”
Deep inside of me, I fear tomorrow. My teachers, my friends, and I have committed to that one college—that one single destination—that I feel like tomorrow will be permanent. I’m scared that I’ve made the wrong choice; or worse, that the college will make the choice of rejecting me. I fear that when I slip that envelope into the mailbox, I will be cautiously crafting the rest of my life.
I feel trepid when I talk about college or my future plans. It is as if where I go tomorrow and what I do with my life is a determinant of how people will perceive me. I sometimes feel like where I end up next year will last for eternity; that if I am not accepted, others will look down on me and I will have ultimately failed myself. I can already foresee my ineptitude forcing me to sport a scarlet [rejection] letter and banishing me to the outskirts of town.
Though I know that this isn’t so, I believe that all seniors (and adults even) believe that the decisions made today will shape tomorrow’s future; that these small commitments will translate into colossal triumphs …or defeats. It seems like we all are looking for acceptance, in one way or another. It’s a question of whether we find it, or perhaps where we are looking.
I don’t know if I’ll make it to Georgetown, or if my future will be as I picture. But, tomorrow I will put the application in the mail. In April, I will receive a big envelope, or a small one; and afterwards, there will be another day. And, another after that. Perhaps, that’s just what was meant to be, and nothing more.
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