I am in a state of extreme nervous tension. My French oral is tomorrow morning at ten to eleven, and I am more frightened than I have ever been for any exam/test ever. That would probably be because I never get scared of exams or tests except orals, and this ain't a mock, tis the real doodah, as Becca would say. Helena says she can tell I'm frightened as I'm talking too fast. I really am, too. Even I can't understand myself.
I am fuck-shit-arse frightened because I just know that however much I revise, and however much I think I know, it'll go whoosh out of my head the moment I enter the holding room. And there's another crappy thing about it - "holding room." You have to wait in the holding room. It's like you're getting executed. "Yeah, doll, I want a chicken fajita with sour cream and salsa for my last meal, and my last words are 'you're all a bunch of fuckers' so have a nice day now...."
[The following is teh Raven's attempt to be reasonable, calm down and stop swearing]
It's only twenty-five percent of one GCSE. I got an A* in the mock, I could hardly have done better and I hadn't revised as much as I have now. I'm not superhumanly intelligent, I can do what I can do and nothing more, and the calmer I am the better I'll do, and what I won't do is better than I'm physically able to do. Even if I do fuck it up, it's not the end of the world. And I can always run away to sea.
In conclusion, je ne parle pas francais, je voudrais me suicider maintenant, et les fleurs sont mortes.
I am fuck-shit-arse frightened because I just know that however much I revise, and however much I think I know, it'll go whoosh out of my head the moment I enter the holding room. And there's another crappy thing about it - "holding room." You have to wait in the holding room. It's like you're getting executed. "Yeah, doll, I want a chicken fajita with sour cream and salsa for my last meal, and my last words are 'you're all a bunch of fuckers' so have a nice day now...."
[The following is teh Raven's attempt to be reasonable, calm down and stop swearing]
It's only twenty-five percent of one GCSE. I got an A* in the mock, I could hardly have done better and I hadn't revised as much as I have now. I'm not superhumanly intelligent, I can do what I can do and nothing more, and the calmer I am the better I'll do, and what I won't do is better than I'm physically able to do. Even if I do fuck it up, it's not the end of the world. And I can always run away to sea.
In conclusion, je ne parle pas francais, je voudrais me suicider maintenant, et les fleurs sont mortes.
no subject
on 2003-05-07 09:38 am (UTC)Tu ne devrais pas oublier que je t'adore!
no subject
on 2003-05-07 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2003-05-07 09:50 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-05-07 09:52 am (UTC)Stress = no fun. :(
(Am so glad I never had to take an oral exam... Regular oral presentations, with notes to rely on and all, were torment enough for me!)
no subject
on 2003-05-07 11:03 am (UTC)YOu'll be ok - remember what I told you about mine? And I did fine int he exam. Don't worry!
no subject
on 2003-05-07 12:09 pm (UTC)I just got back from absolutely crashing and burning on my Spanish oral. So, when you go in for yours, just keep telling yourself: "It is not humanly possible for me to do worse on this than
Good luck.
no subject
on 2003-05-07 01:46 pm (UTC)Such things are NEVER as bad as you imagine them. Stop imagining.
no subject
on 2003-05-07 03:34 pm (UTC)