The Lowdown – The Beginning of the End

Exams have just finished and where many have risen above the violent urge to literally keel over and die on the spot. Some of us have harsher war marks than others – take for example the girl cutting all her off with blunt left-hand scissors at 4am on the morning of her final exam. Now, although my mother is convinced all this hair will never grow back and has already lowered my dowry price – I am quite happy with my final decision to embody my ethnicity (or more shallowly – celebrate not having a weirdly shaped head).

These past few days have left students feeling like its still too early for post-exam blues but a little too late for beginning of semester madness. Where does all the wonderful time go? Holidays now seem like a dream you once had that couldn’t have been true – how was it possible you ate that much? How was it possible you did so little?

The only real remnants of holidays are your new addiction to American reality shows and an inability to say the word corn-dog without your heart skipping a beat. And now I can say America is one of the most amazing holiday destinations on earth. Don’t, however, go there if you have an addictive personality or are the grumpy mumpy not smiling back at strangers (they will turn on you). 

People are finding new ways to deal with waiting for their exam results, one of the most common is pretending that exams didn’t happen or treating it like something-that-must-not-be-named (I am so sorry I just referred to Harry potter, if you don’t read on I will not be offended).

I was almost viscously murdered by a room full of post-traumatically stressed 2^nd years for asking a tutor when our exam results were expected. I imagine, however, there is more weighted stress on the tutors, who need to appear to have taught something to the breed of procrastinating, under-achieving individuals falling asleep in front of them.

All of a sudden you start convincing yourself seating a rewrite would be like slowly dying. When even if one failed everything, it would still be better than being stuck in a dessert contemplating whether the search party will know you ate your friend (Underground American horrors have literally messed with my head)

 But I guess even with all that nothing beats being back in Leeds. Your friends have returned, old bar hasn’t disappeared and all your real ambitions and aspirations are still merely to survive the semester.