Senior year is bittersweet. I mean, that really goes without saying, but the sweetness of my senior year was not tainted by any bitterness until this past week. Or, not bitterness, really, but a little bit of sadness.

As I’ve said countless times, I’ve always been one to look forward to the next step. I generally think this is a good thing. This prevents me from tripping and falling, which I have a tendency to do, especially when I’m running up stairs. (I fall going up stairs more than I do going down stairs. Interestingly enough, these incidences seem to have increased as of late.)

In all seriousness, though, my tendency to focus on the future sometimes hinders my ability to stop to focus on the present. But if senior year has taught me anything worth knowing, it’s that the present is, well, a present. (I would just like you to know that I had a heated debate with myself over whether  I wanted to go for the obvious and cheesy word play here. Eventually, as you can see, I decided, yes. As I like to say, campiness is next to godliness.)

Last week’s events contributed to that revelation. It was a week filled with some notable "Lasts." I started experiencing these "Lasts" back in October when I ran my last cross country race. Two weekends ago, I began performing in my last season in the Mystic Seaport’s Lantern Light Tours.

Last week, I sat down for one final team dinner with my cross country girls and our coach. On Thursday, I sang in my eighth – and last – winter choral concert for the North Stonington School System. And yesterday, I attended, and performed at, my last tree-lighting ceremony on the North Stonington Town Green.

I’m not one to be particularly sentimental, but the thought that I am doing some things for the "last" time did catch me, especially when I walked out on the choral risers on Thursday night (perhaps because I’ve been singing for so long). The thought didn’t really scare me; it saddened me a little. Mostly, it surprised me. In a little more than a month, my senior year will more than halfway done.

My friends have mixed feelings on this subject. Some say that they’re going to be sad when we walk down the aisle in June. However, for the few who have started receiving college acceptance letters, (and for some – myself included – who have not) sadness has been transformed into overwhelming excitement for the next step.

I belonged to the latter group even before I started sending out applications, and still do, but I have slowly become highly conscious of how much the little things mean to me. As I look back on my elementary, middle, and high school careers, I can only hope that I have made the best of my time here in North Stonington. Looking forward to the next six months of school, and the three months of summer beyond that, I hope that I will continue to use my time here wisely.  

Right now, though, as I’m caught in the thick of senior year work, I’m just attempting to get some sleep. And trying very hard to not fall up stairs. Now that I think of it, it’s possible that the increase in the latter may be the result of a decrease in the former.

Scratch that. Not possible, probable.