Senioritis, or the three and-a-half year itch

Nearly four years ago, he crept into the wild halls of Blair. Small and poorly-adapted, he hurled himself into a maelstrom of looming deadlines and late-night study sessions. Four years later, he emerged as a new member of a highly evolved species.

The true second-semester senior is a rarity at Blair. He prowls along Blair Boulevard ten minutes after the late bell. He wears only a vestigial backpack, too small and sleek for books or paper. He can survive a school day without touching a highlighter, compass or pencil sharpener and without participating in a class discussion. For the true second-semester senior, stress does not exist.

What took others an entire high-school career to accomplish, I could not learn overnight. Two months after my maiden plunge into the second-semester senior's fabled world of swimming, four-hour lunches and suspended expectations, I find myself still stifled by academic constraints. Apparently, regular school attendance is still mandatory.

In need of help, I turned to the Class of 2004's finest, those seniors who have been honing their slacking skills for four years. In attendance, behavior and hours spent doing homework, these seniors push themselves to the absolute minimum. They critiqued my pathetic slacking style and gave me some tips for a more stress-free, guilt-free final semester.

1. Feel no shame
My mornings generally start with a brisk sprint from the parking lot to room 331, followed by heart failure. I slink guiltily into first period, too embarrassed to meet my teacher's eyes, and mentally tally the next excused tardies I have left before I lose credit.

Senior Zach Widmayer likes to make an entrance with more bravado. He arrives at school at the crack of 7:23 a.m., exactly in time to cram in a good ten to 15 minutes of socializing before being dramatically late to first period. He strolls boldly into class and yells something like, "Yeah! I'm back! Start the party!" Once you get to class, he says, take your time getting settled. "If there are people in the class I know," says Widmayer, "I'll give the high fives, maybe go see what's up with the teacher, see how he's doing."

2. Be properly equipped
It is unacceptable to be merely unprepared for class. Any pansy can simply forget a pencil, ID or calculator. A true senior will delve deeply into the negative direction, with highly discouraged items brought along for frivolous off-task entertainment. He will forgo the conventionally illegal discman for a boom box with loudspeakers and throw away his copy of Sports Illustrated to simply watch Sports Center during class.

As slacking should make life easier, not more difficult, the true shirker of expectations will follow rules most fundamental to Blair. Senior Yoseph Alemu may disrupt class, but he never strays far from his planbook.

3. Seize every opportunity to snooze
The prod. The jump. My body's startled quiver. The screech of metal against linoleum as my desk crashes floorward. Laughter, then extreme disorientation.

This embarrassing visceral reaction upon waking in class can be moderated with experience and a clean conscience. Alemu estimates that he spends half of all class time sleeping, calling it a "natural part of life," rather than "a sign of extreme disrespect and lack of preparation."

4. Be ruthlessly efficient
The all-nighter, a symptom of extreme academic commitment and insanity, showcases the age-old theory that a task will expand to fill its allotted time. To avoid highly unnecessary sleep deprivation, work is best done during class. If a paper is due in third period, do it in first.

One graduated senior of Blair urban legend avoided the 45-minute lunchtime punch altogether. With a few key name substitutions, he magically transformed his first semester masterpiece, Hamlet's Oedipal relationship with Gertrude, into the highly incoherent second-semester creation, Austen's use of dramatic irony in Pride and Prejudice.

Widmayer says that skipping class one day last year precipitated his inclination to stretch the boundaries of Blair. "I came back to school the next day, and I realized that I could still turn in the work for most of the credit," he says. Senior year provides a similar loophole, a semester of reduced consequences and repercussions. But beware all lowerclassmen: it is very easy to stop doing homework, but it takes years of practice not to feel guilty about it.