I’m a paper, an exam, and a Creative Writing portfolio away from graduation.
At least I passed my swim test.
I stood with thirty to forty other procrastinating seniors outside the pool at 8:00 a.m. on a Monday morning, all in the name of graduation. At least I wasn’t the only one who had put off their four laps and two minutes of treading water until the last possible moment. The swim test coordinator looked both amused and displeased at the large number of us. It didn’t help that someone sufficiently doused him with pool water after jumping in.
The swim test: a quirky 51³Ô¹ÏÍø tradition I’m glad to be a part of.