Sitting here, it’s hard to believe that a year ago, I was a ball of nerves. Pulling my hair out. Insomnia-riddled. Stressed. Waiting for Leaving Cert results has detrimental effects on a person’s mental and physical health, let me tell you that.
The day before, I wasn’t worried about my results as a whole. Admittedly, in the months between the Mocks/Pres (whichever title you school bestowed upon them) I didn’t see the outside of my room unless I was going to school or coming home from school.
I was, as I am now, one stubborn little madam. I knew where I wanted to go, and by God I was going there.
Exams came and went, and the summer flew past. Until D Day arrived. August 17th 2011. The day nightmares were made of.
Over the summer, I had dedicated around five minutes of each week to calculating my points, as I had imagined the to be. Each time, my language subjects were my best (at one stage I rewarded myself with an A1 in honours Irish. No pressure or anything.)
My one worry, up until and including the day before the results? My English grade.
It was the one subject I needed for college. I could fail all the rest of them and die happy as long as there was a mark higher than a B3 across from ‘English.’
Anytime I gave myself my imaginary points, they never exceeded 470. Twenty-five points over what I needed.
Which is why, when the real deal presented me with 525 points, I was so surprised I told my principal to ‘fu*k off.’
For those of you who aren’t as happy with your results, just remember. The Leaving Cert honestly isn’t the be all and end all. If it doesn’t go to plan, there is always something else out there for you.
And if that doesn’t make you feel better, then know this: Gay Byrne never went to college. And Bill Gates was a drop out.