IT'S OVER.
So I thought, I should write about it !
It all started in September 2002, when I entered kindergarden. I then spent 15 years in school learning to read, write, count, learn dates, count but with letters, read while analysing, learn dates to evaluate.
And then THE MONTH arrived. And I was panicked.
On June 1st, I started a night-before-the-bac routine : prepare bag with food, drink, best works of the next day's subjects, and of course convocation and ID - prepare chamomile infusion - shower - prepare clothes for the next day (ALWAYS baggy pants and comfortable shirt) - close all shutters - drink - set my alarm - sleep.
June 2nd : stressed as I have never been
When I went home, I put my lessons on John Donne, Alice Munro and Bernard Shaw in my recycling box and the books on my enjoyment bookshelf. Then I fell asleep.
June 3rd, waking up : um maybe I should work I still have a lot of exams to go. Including History Geography 3 days later and I haven't revised much yet. Oops.
Program : read my lessons, take notes, take notes again, sing my lessons to memorise the facts, kidnap my sisters so they listen to me recite the keys to the maps, all the while being thankful for the 3 days instead of the 2 other years have had.
June 6th : stress maxed out. Get the paper. Leaf through it to check whether we have a map to do. There isn't. Disappointment. Oops I did not look at what we had. Leaf through it again. China ! Let's start writing.
Once home, I go through all my history geography lessons... and barely put anything in my recycling box because I have the oral to go.
8 very intense days, with roughly 8 hours of philosophy revision per day, with awful stomachaches for the last few...
"I am more stressed than for the two OIB writtens combined" - me, June 15th, 7:10
"Wait this is fun I should sit the bac more often" - me, June 15th, 9:50
"Aaaah I'm on holidays !" - me, June 15th, 12:00
I do not remember the rest of the written week, except for the fact that I felt lost because I had a work schedule that actually let me have free time. And that I had two illuminations in the last quarter of an hour of the maths bac. Also I was too stressed to work so I drove up to Luynes to find the lycée. Bad idea because I couldn't be in denial anymore.
Literature exam : on Oedipus, like for my French exam last year. "At least this is the last time I'll be writing about him ! Judith you're going to do psychology you are not done with Oedipus. Okay then the other L are. Let me be happy" - my mind in the middle of the exam
AND THEN came the orals.
Essentially this means that I went crazy again the two days before history geography - I had a paper patchwork that hid my bedroom's floor.
Saturday, June 24th : Stole a long dress from my mom because pants are too hot, and my non-pants clothes are too short and I didn't want to stick to the chair. Why are my examinators nodding so much ? Am I really saying interesting stuff ?
OH WAIT I SHOULD REREAD THE BOOKS FOR THE ENGLISH ORAL. Oops. (Okay I have started to reread Shakespeare and A Passage to India already). Wait before I do that I'm putting history geography in my recycling box.
June 26th : what is Italian ? A language ? And I have to speak in it for 30 minutes ? Now ? Are you sure ?
June 27th, 16:50 : why am I alone in the waiting roooooooooom ? Why am I the last one todaaaaay ?
Little discussion with Nadja about how the Immigrants is a horrible poem to have at the oral, and as my examinor arrives I think I see "Immigrants" written on the paper and almost faint... only to find out that what I had read as an "I" from 10 meters way was a "J". I am reassured.
A little over an hour later : "so you're donewith school !" "I... am !" "Look at that smile !"
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(sorry) |
Since then and until today, I have taken a break from my room, not wanting to sleep in an area polluted by revisions. All of my lessons were waiting for the results before going to the recycling bin, so I am taking them soon.
I have never worked as intensely as I did in the past two months. Good luck to next year's terminales, I'll be in Glasgow suffering on my own.
Judith