My senior year. I can't believe it's almost over. Now when I look back, it was stressful, but thrilling. The prom, graduation, and then of course, college.

I started my college application process months before Christmas. My parents told me it would be smart if I set up interviews and tours. But I was unmotivated. I wanted to go to college, but I didn't want to deal with the stress.

As the days flew by, my applications lay on my desk just as I had left them three months before. "You're wasting valuable time," my parents nagged. It didn't help that my sister (who is three years older) had, by this time, been accepted at a college she wanted to attend. If I wanted a fair chance, I had to get started.

Sweeping away the accumulated dust on the applications, I worked on them every Sunday until I finished. Next came writing the essays. I had many ideas, but every school had different requirements. I changed them until I was pleased, then the recommendations held me up. I had given my teacher the form two months before, but I guess she was as lazy as I, or under the same stress of deadlines. Finally, everything was underway, and in the mail the beginning of January.

Now I just had to wait. In March, I started receiving letters of rejection. I began to think that I had set myself up for disappointment. I waited to hear from the other schools. I pulled into my driveway after school one day and ran to the mailbox. I had a letter from Salem State College stating that they wanted to see my third quarter grades before they made their decision. Yes! At least someone wanted to consider me.

The beginning of April, I received a letter from Keene State. I had been rejected. Those opening words: "We regret to inform you ..." made me sit down and cry. I had lost all hope. Then I heard from Plymouth State. Not my first choice, but ... I had been accepted. I decided to send everything in: housing information, the deposit, and my meal plan. Maybe if I get my grades up, I can transfer to another school ...

The college application process was mortifying to me. All my friends had dozens of schools to choose from, or so it seemed. I guess my parents were right. High school grades are critical to your future plans. If I could do it all over again, I would take it more seriously. c