We remember it well.
It was hands down the most stressful thing I’ve ever done. Never again in your entire life will you be expected to know so much random stuff about fucking everything. Chemistry, History, French, Maths, Irish – college is a walk in a puppy filled park compared to those two weeks in June.
If you’re one of the manifold students who just sat the Leaving, it is important to remember that your entire self-worth is not based on a combination of numbers. The State examinations are not the be all and end all of your life (as you’ll soon find out) and similarly, college is not the only option available to you.
I bet you’re feeling pretty nervous right now though. Completely understandable, but take solace in the fact that you’ll never have to sit that Irish paper ever again.
With that in mind, considering that the Leaving Cert results are due out tomorrow, we’ve compiled a list of the six emotions you’re probably going through right now.
Calculating the worst case scenario and seeing if it matches ANY of your choices
Expectations versus reality. This is usually done a few times in the run-up to the results. You sit down at your desk and furiously scribble the worst case scenario points and try to see if you can still get into one of your courses. You tweek your Biology grade from a B1 to a B2 and your Maths to a C3- just to see. You then toss the piece of paper aside and start again. This ritual is repeated ad infinitum until the dreaded D-day. Here, if worse comes to worse, there’s always jam making on the Aran Islands and basket weaving courses a plenty.
Wishing you tried a little harder
Oh hindsight! On the night before the results are out, everyone wishes they had studied a little bit harder. I know I did. I was the classic night before crammer, spending more time working on study timetables then actually hitting the books. In fairness, you should’ve seen my pimp ass timetables. They were decked out with highlighters, stickers and shit motivational quotes from Yoda.
Trying not to vom in your mouth when people asked you how you’re feeling
All eyes are on you right now gals and guys. Everyone thinks that they are being super supportive asking how you feel but you just wish that they would stop. Estranged great aunts text you sweet messages with loads of xxx’s (where were they for your birthday though, amiright?) and siblings are ripping the shit out of you trying to make you crack.
Fret not, it’ll all be over soon. One thing that won’t be over soon, however, is people asking you ‘what did you get in your Leaving?’ that shit never stops. Heck, I’m 27 and a guy asked me what I got on a first date a while back. Grim.
Deciding to emigrate the night before
Not in a ‘going to study in Edinburgh sort of way’- more of a pack the bags and leave a note Thelma and Louise style situation. It wouldn’t be the eve of the results if you haven’t hatched an escape plan pact with your best friend. You bring the chargers, I’ll bring the fake tan and cheese.
Preparing loved ones around you about the possibility of really bad results
I was so lucky in that I never had pushy grade focused parents. I was friends with loads of girls who did though. Some parents in my school offered their kids cars, holidays and jewelry if they got a certain amount of points, (2007-pre crash). Having the chat with your parents who are more involved in your results than you are and telling them that you won’t be studying Law in Trinners is a necessity and also a big girl step on the road to adulthood. You can do it!
Googling people who never went to college and still did well
I hate the way society dictates our lives for us from the moment we’re born. We are expected to go from one people farm to the next, where we absorb even more knowledge written by dead guys and regurgitate it back like trained pets. There are tonnes of really successful people in the world who shunned college. For example tech billionaire Bill Gates, media mogul and space travel enthusiast Richard Branson, important poet and civil rights activist Maya Angelou and even Editor in Chief of Vogue, Anna Wintor.
