It’s now the second week of May, and unless you go to one of those crazy schools that’s in session all year long, you probably have between one and five weeks left before you can officially kick off your learnin’ boots and slide on your I’m-not-studying-nothing-for-no-one espadrilles. So close your eyes and hang on—summer vacation is right around the corner.
But just because you transport your body to school every day doesn’t mean your mind comes along for the ride. If you’re a senior, you may have checked out months ago due to a crippling affliction known as senioritis. And those of you who feel exceptionally lazy but aren’t sure if it might just be the mammoth turkey sandwich you crammed down at lunch, it’s time to self-diagnose. Here are some surefire signs that you’ve unplugged the thinking machine and stopped trying for the year:
You just used the words “dudette” and “holla” in your English paper about Jane Austen’s Emma. Both appear in the title.
You planned to tell your teacher that your dog ate your homework; instead, you ate it yourself because you were too tired to get off the couch to find a snack.
When you leave for school in the morning, you say to your mom, “See you in an hour.”
When a teacher calls on you in class, you reply, “To leave a message, press 1. To page this person, press 5 now.”
You actually bought a pager and gave your teacher the number. Then you tossed the pager under some shrubs and walked away.
You turned your locker into a vending machine that sells PBnJ sandwiches that you didn’t eat earlier in the week.
It took you 47 minutes to run the mile in gym class because you took a break to go get donuts for everyone “as a reward.”
You just received a 62 on your history quiz and you’re kind of excited.
You asked your dad if you can stay home because you’re “sick, but more like sick of all the school-related BS I have to put up with, not like an actual illness.”
Your latest chem lab report is a write-up on the composition of spray tanner.
Instead of taking the time to plagiarize your term paper, you just e-mailed the Wikipedia link to your teacher.
You bring your surfboard to school because “you never know when a nice swell might roll in.”
You transformed your math textbook into a graphic novel where anime superheroes fight evil quadratic equations from the Zalgebra Zux Galaxy.
The contents of your backpack are limited to: a necklace made from paper clips; a watch that stopped working three months ago; several strands of hair that don’t belong to you; and some dried flakes of what appears to be Mountain Dew.
You only use the computer lab to check the prices of flights to Hawaii.
You’re handed a biology test at the beginning of the period, but at the end of class you hand back a very lovely paper crane.
Your pre-prom party plans involve sitting home with a box of Cheez-Its and rewatching the bonus features on your Twilight DVD.
Are you still in the mood for school? If not, let us know at which point your brain called it quits.