Tasha Dhanraj gets down about her exams

It is a beautiful, sunny day. Birds are gliding over the open, blue canvas that is the English summer sky. Somewhere just north of Hurstpierpoint, there’s probably a deer drinking from a lake. Meanwhile, I am desperately trying to learn about the Spanish Civil War. Whoever decided it would be a good idea for exams to be in the summer was clearly a worse person than Franco. Luckily, one of the only benefits to doing the International Baccalaureate is that all the exams start and finish in May, which means I’ve only got a few weeks left before I can enjoy worry-free liberty. That of course does not mean that I won’t still spend these next few weeks complaining.

Hot days like today when I am trapped indoors make me want to run through the fields in a skirt and flip-flops and eat ice cream in a cone. The truth is, when I actually do have the freedom to do those things, the reality will set in. Wearing a skirt will require putting sticky sun-cream on my legs; it is impossible to run in flip-flops and I am lactose intolerant. If this day had come after my exams then I would still be inside, watching Blue Bloods. The only difference, I wouldn’t also be pretending to revise History while watching it.

“I’ve grown up through education and developed terrible habits”

In the meantime, I do have the very real problem of my impending doom. By doom, I mean 15 exams in the space of three weeks. I’m going to be required to rummage around the dusty pit that is my memory to try and recall facts about a cell’s mitochondria that
I had long since replaced with a new and more interesting fact about Nigella Lawson.

I know it is awful to admit, but I don’t think I’ve ever revised properly in my entire life. GCSEs, I’ll be honest, were relatively a doddle. I’ve grown up through education and developed terrible habits. I have no idea how to revise for exams that are actually very, very difficult and can’t just be answered through common sense. I can’t even look at my history books without developing a migraine.

I suppose the main problem is that deep down I suspect that it will all be OK in the end. Only this time, it really might not be. I genuinely could fail this time. But hey – I’m an optimist. Even if I do fail, at least I’ll have a lovely, long summer to look forward to. That is assuming the weather continues…