How does one even begin an article centered on what society deems the peak year of your ENTIRE life? Easy: we'll dispel some myths first. It's not the peak of your life. Period. Exclamation point. Whatever form of punctuation you need to understand the immense importance of that statement. At least I hope it wasn't the peak of mine, because if that's the case, I'll be single, afraid to merge into traffic, and devoid of any "real" job skills for the rest of my existence on this planet. Perspective setter? I'd say so.

Now that I've spoiled it for you, let me tell you what senior year is really like. It's a mess. A beautiful, tragic mess that is both fortunately and sadly necessary to, in a phrase, "grow up." During the fastest nine months in high school I experienced, I did more thinking (surprise) than the previous 17 years of my life put together. You're going to be thinking A LOT, too. It's not what you thought it'd be like when you were 12 years old and stuck in middle school. It's not glamorous. When I wasn't studying, working or trying to cram in some precious moments with my friends, I spent a lot of time staring down my future (a.k.a. my bedroom ceiling ... what can I say? Glamorous.) What am I going to major in? Is that honors tract really for me? Will I find a job with that degree? What am I going to do with the rest of my life? These questions were constantly present in the back of my mind, questions, seemingly, without answers.

Despite the never-ending, ever-present but unseen existential crisis that will inevitably grip you, you still have actual work to do, and, by the end of it, you're going to be worn out. I jumped into the school year in September only to drag myself across the finish line in May. Papers, tests, quizzes, and essay upon essay will add up and I can tell you it is a very heavy load to carry. Don't be like me: pace yourself. Study, but know that staying up until the wee hours of the morning is not worth the two extra points you'll get on your Physics test.

Start early, too: when I started my AP English class in the summer, I didn't take it seriously. I submitted a paper 10 minutes before it was due. Let me give you a tip for success that will serve you well throughout your life: NEVER SUBMIT ANYTHING 10 MINUTES BEFORE IT IS DUE (in my defense, it was going to be 20 minutes but my computer froze). Make time management a priority. Highlight that. Underline it. Write it on a post-it note. Time management is everything.

This article isn't meant to be all doom-and-gloom: there is a lot to look forward to, and I encourage you to take every opportunity you can to enjoy yourself. Go to every dance and do whatever club or sport you've been too afraid to try the past three years. Make all of the mistakes you can, because, if nothing else, senior year taught me one of the most important lessons I've learned in my entire life: everything ends. After this year, you won't have the opportunity to do any of the things you've wanted to do under the same circumstances ever again. Make mistakes. Make as many as you can. If you make a mistake, you at least did something. That's another thing senior year taught me: embarrassment is a lot easier to live with than regret.

Don't be afraid to be sentimental either. I was never able to see past the gowns and tassels until exactly one month before I graduated and my classes were more or less finished. The true ramifications of moving on finally set in and it felt like the world I'd grown so used to for three years was suddenly gone. I became the typical nostalgic, walking through the halls and acknowledging every "last" of my high school career, when, only three months ago, I was planning on doing cartwheels across the stage to get my diploma. The moment you can't turn back from occurs when you're sitting at your lunch table and you realize that almost every single one of your friends is going to a different college (in my case, some were going to different states and even a different continent). It's surreal, and I remember going home that day feeling my lowest the entire year. I'm including this because I want to drive home a point; it's okay to be sad. The hardest part of graduating is saying goodbye, and the worst part of it was realizing that, from that point forward, I would be saying goodbye to more people more and more frequently, and, under a year from now, so will you.

So, Class of 2018, here's my advice: make the most of this year. Revel in your last year of childhood, make the stupid (within limits) mistakes you're going to make, let the people you care about know you care (including your family!) and make some of the memories you're going to cherish most in life. Senior year is not the best year of your life, but it is definitely one of the highlights. Remember that, hold on to it, and, when it's time, you'll be ready to let go.