In response to Christina and Angela's recent blogs, I have these three words: May 14, 1996.
That day will forever be emblazoned in my memory as the day of my junior year AP bio exam. I don't remember the date I graduated college, my friends’ birthdays, or my parents' anniversary -- and yet every time May 14 rolls around, I inwardly shudder at the memory of that hellish day.
I congratulate anyone who managed to dig their way through hordes of AP courses in high school. A bunch of my friends who did so went on to be pre-med in college, further capitalizing on their masochism.
I, however, had it up to here with one AP class junior year, and two my senior year. And I’m no slacker.
I’m lucky my high school realized how difficult it was to make it through a regular course load, and apply to and get ready for college. They knew how oodles of AP’s on a transcript would impress those college admissions officers; but they also realized just how far a 16-year-old could be pushed before going insane. And so they restricted the amount of AP classes we could take each year.
Thank you, Harvard-Westlake.
Rather than overwhelm myself during high school, I took courses at the local Community College over the summer in between years of college. One college class at a time was a breeze, I still had time to do an internship, and it only cost $13 a unit. Huzzah!
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