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I found this picture a couple of days ago, and I must say that it quite accurately depicts my life right now. Sad, but true. Anyone in IB, or at least in their junior year of high school, would understand. Junior year is the only year that actually counts-freshmen year, you don't know what the heck you're doing; sophomore year, you can make fun of the freshmen but are still picked on by the upper-class men and your work still doesn't matter; junior year, you're running around like a chicken without its head on; and by the time senior year rolls around, you don't care about anything except graduating. Not fun.
So all in all, junior year= hell. Junior year+IB= seventh or eighth circle of hell in Dante's Inferno.
