For the past year and a half, I’ve skidded through the academic maelstrom of AP’s and college apps, working myself until I was sick (quite literally), taking a mental health day and then repeating the process.

Now that I’m a second semester senior, naps have replaced homework, college Facebook group gossip has replaced college admissions anxiety and content relaxation has replaced soul-crushing stress.

In his provocative Feb. 25 New York Times op-ed “Skipping 12th grade,” Fordham University professor Marc Bernstein argues more students should consider replacing their traditional senior years with “far superior alternatives” like beginning college a year early, working to pay for college or participating in a volunteer or apprenticeship program. Bernstein contends that traditional senior years, and especially their second semesters, are notoriously unproductive, characterized by excused absences, abbreviated schedules and vanishing work ethics.

I agree that second-semester senior year is an 18-week-long bacchanalia of sloth and hedonism. But Bernstein fails to understand that after three-and-a-half years of crushing workloads and a heaping side of college stress, this break is exactly what seniors deserve.

Bernstein seems to want students to grow up as quickly as possible. He dismisses senior year as “unproductive” and urges students to instead plunge straight into the real world of jobs, college and service projects. But there’s no need to prematurely rush into the real world; in a few years we’ll find ourselves hemmed in on all sides by the constraints of real life, and we’ll pine for this glorious window of relaxation, the likes of which won’t return until retirement (and senior year comes without the bum knees!).

Adults look back to their high school years with starry-eyed nostalgia, reminiscing about those prime years as if they were nothing but late-night drives, Friday night lights and all-night parties. What they seem to all leave out is the mountains of homework and extracurriculars I’ve had to battle through to reach such moments of exhilarating release.

My high school years were a sleep-deprived blur of studying and activities, not the “glory days” that pop culture promised me. Because I can’t get a refund, I have to settle for cramming as much enjoyment and as little worry into the next four months as I possibly can.

So here are some of my aspirations for the remainder of the school year:

1) Philly Cheesesteak challenge: driving to Philly the moment the first bell rings, nabbing a cheesesteak and returning before the end of the day. While the attendance lady is often skeptical of perfectly legitimate absence notes, she may prove partial to an authentic Philly cheesesteak. Only question is: Pat’s or Geno’s?

2) Take a mental health day — at school.

3) Try naps. A lot of naps. Become a connoisseur of naps, able to discern amongst the numerous varieties of naps and cultivate and enjoy the subtleties and rewards of each (the 3:30 face down on the sofa power nap, the 15 minute “study” break quickie, and — my personal favorite — the oatmeal-induced all-afternoon hibernation.)

4) Hang out with juniors from time to time, because nothing puts second semester in perspective with all its shining glory quite like a brief reminder of the despair you just escaped from.

Perhaps the past year and a half were so unpleasant simply because overachieving never came naturally to me; as I watched my peers struggle through AP studying and SAT prep, my natural inclination was to step back and willfully relax in the face of overwhelming systematic pressure (I prefer to think of my laziness as a healthy sense of proportion).

I had to put forth an immense effort just to care about standardized tests and certain classes (any with numbers) that I knew didn’t reflect my interests or hold any weight upon my future pursuits. Now that I’m returning to selective indifference, it feels like I can be myself again.

I’ve spent my whole life trying to grow up as fast as possible, but now that I find myself on the cusp of adulthood I find myself dawdling, wanting to savor these final carefree months of youth. So I must disagree with Mr. Bernstein, I’m getting more out of my second semester of senior year than I ever could from any “productive” pursuit.