It was my 4th grade year. I still remember the chilling artificial breeze that you recognize in a classroom. Those luminous fluorescent lights that made your head throb when they were flipped on. Of course, there was also that child-like wonder that always lifted my heart. I was only an elementary school child, so it's not like I had a bunch of responsibilities at the moment. All I had to stress about was my daily nap, and bathing myself on occasion. Those were much simpler times. Our teacher was reminding us to study for our spelling test on Friday. "Guys," Mr. Thompson tried to articulate very specifically to our scattered thoughts, "you have to study for this test.

There are a lot of hard words in it." I wasn't worried in the slightest. Please, these words are easy, I thought. I don't need to study. I never have. I was right. I didn't have to study. Just like every other time I was tested, I passed. Thinking back now, I realize that this would eventually set me up for a series of enormous failures that I call my 6th and 7th grade years. I believe that hard work is necessary to succeed in life.

After my 4th grade year, I went on to my 5th grade year, succeeding as I had been my whole life. Then, that year ended, and my increasingly downward spiral began. I had said goodbye to all my teachers and friends. Finally, summer was here. It was time to relax. Or, at least, for most kids it was. However, I knew that I wanted to be part of the basketball team that year, and I also knew that tryouts were being held the week we came back. So, logically, I should have started getting in shape and keeping my fundamentals in check. Yeah, I didn't do that. I didn't do that at all. I did the complete opposite, consuming as much junk food as I could, and going outside maybe twice. Yeah, I know, really great idea. I thought it was at least. Please, I would tell myself. You always make the team. (I don't know why I was so proud of this, it was a recreational league, everybody made the team) You'll be fine. I was not fine, to say the least. Later that week, on the day of the tryouts, I was theorizing with my friend, Bryan, on what the impending tryouts had in store. "I talked to Coach," he told me, "he said, 'Be ready to run.' Upon hearing this, I started to internally panic. I am dreadfully awful at running. I don't have an inherently athletic body, so running is just not one of my strong suits. Well, ok, maybe not exercising all summer might have had a role in it. Finally, when 7th period rolled around, we emptied our lockers, got changed, and started warming up. Immediately, I could tell that the previous summer had had it's effects on me. I couldn't move as well, from the weight I had gained, I couldn't shoot the ball as well, because I hadn't practiced, and, since I hadn't grown 2 feet, I was probably the shortest kid there. During the practice, we scrimmaged, ran laps, worked on drills, ran laps, did I mention that we ran laps, because we ran a lot of laps. At the end, I was exhausted, discouraged, and not on the team. It hurt, but I learned there that not everything I did was a given success. I didn't feel great going home that day, but I did learn a valuable lesson.

Alas, this wasn't the last time my laziness got the best of me. I also start to fall off in school. The work was getting harder, but I wasn't putting in any more work than I had before. The procrastination started to pile up. I was turning in a lot of assignments late, and some, I didn't turn in at all! At one point, I had 7 missing assignments. It was bad. I always convinced myself that it wasn’t that bad, and that a late grade wouldn’t hurt that much, when in reality, it was. I just kept on digging myself into a deeper and deeper hole, until eventually, I hit rock bottom. It was an ordinary day. I went to school, came home, goofed around on the internet, and did a little bit of homework (as you can see, my priorities were completely wrong). After having “finished” my homework, I was playing video games, when my dad called me into the living room. Little did I know, I was about to be in a world of trouble.

“Logan,” he said. “How’s Ms. Bal's class going?” This led to me admitting my missing assignments, and needless to say, he wasn’t very happy. There was some yelling, lots of punishments, and even a scheduled conference with some of my teachers. Looking back on it now, it seems silly. How could I lose focus on something so important because of something so small? Now I know that school should always come before entertainment.
Now, this year, I'm a year older, and I've had past experiences to learn from, so I shouldn’t be making these mistakes anymore, right? Right?! Well, while I have improved over these few years, I still have a lot to learn. For example, just this year, I fell behind in Spanish, and for a short period, had an F. I remember when I found out. Immediately, I started breathing heavy, I started to shake. I felt an overwhelming sense of panic washing over me, and the room felt heavier and darker all of a sudden. I don't consider myself one to have panic attacks, but I definitely had one here. I turned in all of my late assignments, and I ended up with a C. Thankfully, it was the beginning of the year, and I could still bring that up. However, since I had to study so hard in Spanish, my grades dropped slightly in my other classes. I wish I wouldn't have procrastinated.

So, when I look back on everything, I realize where I must go from here. I need to be more focused on studying in the future, instead of immediate gratification. I believe that you must work hard to succeed.