So the marathon that is the Leaving Cert is well underway, and while it feels like it’s been three years as opposed to three days, the end is in sight.
Although I’ll be kept going till the 22nd when the Music exam takes place, there are plenty that can finally say they’ll be finished “this time next week”. The past three days were busy ones, as I sat both English papers, Geography, and Maths Paper 1.
First up was English Paper 1 on Wednesday, which was a little bit daunting for me with English being my favourite subject. All went accordingly to plan however, and against all odds I finished writing with a minute or two to go. The paper remained fairly topical, with questions about fake news, and visual texts that eerily resembled albums covers of 1975.
The SEC did probably take their efforts of getting ‘down with the kids’ too far, presenting the option of a short story where a tattoo “plays a vital role”. A tattoo. All I can say is I’m glad I hadn’t been hoping to go with the short story option regardless … otherwise some unfortunate character would’ve been getting a butterfly or dolphin or something slapped on their shoulder for no particular reason.
Then came English Paper 2, and I think I speak on behalf of most in saying that whatever nerves I had for the first exam were nothing compared to those for this one. The utter desperation I had for Keats to come up in the poetry section was embarrassing, if anything else.
Tensions were high as our supervisor cut open the bag of exams. He passed them out, and my hands literally shook as I turned the pages, only to find the name of the lovely John Keats himself staring back at me from the paper. I hopped up from my seat cheering. The supervisor started a conga line, and we all joined in, bopping around to the soft beat of the cries of students that had only learnt Plath.
Okay, that didn’t happen. But I tell no word of a lie when I say that the pure happiness on my face when I saw the question surpassed that of a mother seeing her newborn for the first time.
Geography on Friday morning was a different kettle of fish, with the paper escaping its usual, predictable form. Nevertheless, I can’t complain as a gorgeous Ordinary Level Maths paper greeted some of us (the lucky ones) in the afternoon. How glad I am that I dropped from Higher Level after just a week of it in fifth year.
I’m fond enough of Irish, French and Biology (next week’s exams), so I like to hope the worst part is over.
On that note, I’m off to bed. I honestly can’t remember a time when I was more tired than I am now.
Isabel.
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