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Choruses of complaints about the dreaded day fill the classroom con delore. It’s often accompanied by groans that reach a frightening crescendo or soft sighs, signifying defeat. For those who have truly been driven mad by the fight, there might even be the staccato sounds of sobbing. And then there’s me, bright-eyed and eager, fingers moving over the keys allegro – computer keys, that is. The truth is: I love writing college essays.

I once dared to casually mention this secret love of mine to a friend, thinking nothing of it. The reaction I received was at such a level of dismay and astonishment that I might as well have confessed a penchant for stealing walkers from the elderly. Soon enough, this innocent enjoyment of writing became an unlikely guilty pleasure. The delight I find in out-of-the-ordinary or thought-provoking prompts must be kept to myself. Uttering one word of the accomplishment I feel after completing an essay would put me at the risk of attack by stressed-out friends.

Soon enough, however, this chaotic piece will reach its end, and peace will be restored to high school senior classrooms worldwide. I am still puzzled as to why people wouldn’t enjoy an opportunity to discuss things important to them or express themselves through a piece of writing. Then again, people ask me how in the world I could find pleasure in such a task. I guess it’s the same way I’d explain my love for bad eighties music or fries dipped in milkshake – it’s simply a guilty pleasure.



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