It’s been less than two months since I wrote my last article for LaoisToday, but it’s felt more like a mini lifetime has passed.
This summer has been a strange one, leaving me feeling as if time flew by so fast that it paused, leaving us in a sort of purgatory; an inbetween state of clueless helplessness.
The remains of June blended into July which steadily blurred into August. The names of days lost importance, all melting together to form one routine-less blob of enjoyable uncertainty. My blob started off with me working at the Gaeltacht for three weeks, allowing my head no time to digest the ups and downs of the Leaving Cert.
After that pilgrimage to Connemara, I started childminding five days a week, meaning any remnants of the exams have been replaced by newly recovered Lego skills and the lyrics of the Horrid Henry theme song. To cap off my post-sixth year rehabilitation, I jetted off to Greece with seven other girls last week, where we exchanged Hamlet quotes for the sun and sand (and occasional cocktail). Long story short, it’s been fun.
The time has come, however, to throw my mind back to the happenings of June and to try to mentally prepare myself for what the next few weeks have in store. While the official D-Day is this Wednesday, the results are only the beginning of a stressful enough time.
Even if I’m happy with the all-intimidating grades that that fateful piece of paper reads on Wednesday, none of us can sit back until the CAO offers come out next Monday. I’m also yet to source accommodation in Galway, being on three waiting lists for three separate places. If all else fails, I might find myself ringing up the Bean an Tí from Connemara to ask whether it’d be ok if I could pitch a tent in her garden.
The anticipation of all this impending chaos has unsurprisingly launched me, like many others, back into a recent series of nightmares. The one where I forget to bring both my calculator and my clothes to the maths exam has returned, developing even further.
It now ends with me taking home everyone’s paper by accident, in turn dooming the entire year group to automatic failure. It’s also starting to sink in that I only have a few more weeks before Pot Noodles become my only plausible option for breakfast, lunch and dinner, so I’m indulging in Mam’s cooking while I still can.
It’s harder than I expected to write about the lead up to the Results. I feel totally daft in revealing my worries and hopes about the coming college year, because I don’t even know if I’ll actually be going yet. Portlaoise might have to hold on to me a little bit longer, and if that’s the case then I suppose I’ll just have to deal with it.
Even at this point, I don’t regret only putting down one choice on the CAO. Creative Writing with Arts at NUIG still has my heart, and I’d still sooner wait another year for it than be diving into a course I have no interest in in three weeks time. All of that said, I can only keep my fingers tightly crossed that Wednesday goes well for myself and everyone else.
Light a candle for us,
Isabel.
SEE ALSO – Leaving Cert Diary: The past three days have been hell but the end is in sight
