I overheard two teenage girls today talking about grad - which isn't for eight months! And the angst was incredible. One of the girls had already committed to a limo, a date (who was really just a friend) that her friend couldn't tell anyone, like, no one at all, about, like, two dresses because the photos were going to go all around the world. The other girl hadn't thought about it at all, except that because of the limo thing, she was now offended that her friend was going off with other people and not her.
I was cringing as I listened to this. I couldn't stop listening, but the whole time I was cringing.
It reminded me of how difficult and miserable and unhappy I was at their age. It reminded me of how every single decision was a life and death decision - and if I'd had to make a decision about who to take a limo with I would have been a wreck.
I'm glad, now, listening to those girls, that I didn't graduate from high school, that I went right from Grade 10 to doing university courses by correspondence and then, much later, doing my degree as a mature student. I'm sure I couldn't have coped with the decisions I would have had to make - what courses to take, who to walk to class with, whose parties to go to, what to where, what classes to cut. Oh my god, it would have been brutal.
Thank you, all the powers that be, for saving me from this.