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Jun. 25th, 2005 08:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ravenThe day never ends. Never, never, never. It's nearly nine now, and the sun is still out and bright, and the world as seen from my window is lush green, sunlit and still as awe-inspiringly beautiful as ever. I particularly like the way the deciduous, shorter trees are in shadow while the tops of the pines are catching the light and swaying as the squirrels leap off them. Well, I say I like it; I actually hate it for being there and being pretty when everything else is horrible and tainted by revision.
Yes, I have reached the stage of complete irrationality, why do you ask?
It is, incidentally, brought to you mostly by the realisation that I don't know anything. No, nothing at all. Not a damn thing. I've done and dusted my Biology A-level, incidentally. Did it yesterday. I went in to school in the morning toting all six module books. I don't think I'd ever put them all in the same place for fear they'd go the same way as the manual for Brockian Ultra-Cricket and undergo gravitational collapse. I sort of read them, sort of re-re-revised photosynthesis and then went to lunch in the safe knowledge that I'd done something.
And the exam wasn't as dreadful as all that. Section A had six questions, about imprinting and fertilisation and thyroxine and myocardial infarction, and I finished it on the dot an hour after I'd started, which made me feel better about proceedings. (Afterwards, I was talking to Helena about the myocardial infarction question, and after I'd been talking for five minutes, realised she was looking increasingly blank. According to her, she must have turned over a page and missed it out, and she's now so worried I feel guilty for even bringing it up.)
And the data questions were okay-ish - there was one that asked the minimum number of bases that code for a protein with nine hundred amino acid sub-units, and I wrote three hundred and only realised once I'd left the room - but it was the essay that really proved my undoing. I didn't have enough time, nor enough material, I rambled for pages about negative feedback without actually saying anything, and I've just tried not to think about it since.
I have other things to think about. I was told yesterday what the procedure for Tuesday will be. I'll have to turn up at half eight, usual time, and go in just before nine to take my Chemistry with everyone else. Module five is two hours, module six is one, and they're consecutive, obviously, so that brings us to twelve o'clock. At which point I will no longer be an autonomous* human being, as I will then be followed by one or possibly two invigilators or otherwise-responsible-adults, and I won't be allowed to eat lunch with anyone, go to the loo alone or speak to anybody at all. The thought makes my skin crawl, but hopefully by then I will be too dazed to really notice.
I get half an hour of solitary whatever-you-call-it, I think, or maybe up until quarter to one. Then re-registration and three hours of Politics modules four and five. Which bring us full circle, as they are the reason I don't know anything. I can't do Politics any more. I spent the whole of today reading through module four. Reading through, not learning; and tomorrow I need to do module five, which is a whole fucking lot more, as it's synoptic comparative and contains huge chunks of last year's, and the last time I even looked at it was pre-Biology and Chemistry revision, three weeks ago. There's just no way I can get through it all tomorrow, and Monday will have to feature transition metal ions, entropy and not a lot else.
Ah, yes, I see a whole bunch of people defriending me because of how fucking boring I have become. I don't blame you, honestly. Go forth and multiply. Um. If you want to. You know.
Oh, meh. Meh, meh, meh. I suck. I meant to get up early today for revision purposes, but I ended up watching the second half of Doctor Who instead. Without having any idea what was going on at all, I really liked the twenty minutes I saw. Peter Davison is so unutterably adorable as the Doctor; he has this lovely wide-eyed and earnest thing going on that makes me want to pet him on the head and straighten his celery.
*Human beings have an autonomic nervous system. The USA has autonomous state governmeents. I learnt this the hard way.
Yes, I have reached the stage of complete irrationality, why do you ask?
It is, incidentally, brought to you mostly by the realisation that I don't know anything. No, nothing at all. Not a damn thing. I've done and dusted my Biology A-level, incidentally. Did it yesterday. I went in to school in the morning toting all six module books. I don't think I'd ever put them all in the same place for fear they'd go the same way as the manual for Brockian Ultra-Cricket and undergo gravitational collapse. I sort of read them, sort of re-re-revised photosynthesis and then went to lunch in the safe knowledge that I'd done something.
And the exam wasn't as dreadful as all that. Section A had six questions, about imprinting and fertilisation and thyroxine and myocardial infarction, and I finished it on the dot an hour after I'd started, which made me feel better about proceedings. (Afterwards, I was talking to Helena about the myocardial infarction question, and after I'd been talking for five minutes, realised she was looking increasingly blank. According to her, she must have turned over a page and missed it out, and she's now so worried I feel guilty for even bringing it up.)
And the data questions were okay-ish - there was one that asked the minimum number of bases that code for a protein with nine hundred amino acid sub-units, and I wrote three hundred and only realised once I'd left the room - but it was the essay that really proved my undoing. I didn't have enough time, nor enough material, I rambled for pages about negative feedback without actually saying anything, and I've just tried not to think about it since.
I have other things to think about. I was told yesterday what the procedure for Tuesday will be. I'll have to turn up at half eight, usual time, and go in just before nine to take my Chemistry with everyone else. Module five is two hours, module six is one, and they're consecutive, obviously, so that brings us to twelve o'clock. At which point I will no longer be an autonomous* human being, as I will then be followed by one or possibly two invigilators or otherwise-responsible-adults, and I won't be allowed to eat lunch with anyone, go to the loo alone or speak to anybody at all. The thought makes my skin crawl, but hopefully by then I will be too dazed to really notice.
I get half an hour of solitary whatever-you-call-it, I think, or maybe up until quarter to one. Then re-registration and three hours of Politics modules four and five. Which bring us full circle, as they are the reason I don't know anything. I can't do Politics any more. I spent the whole of today reading through module four. Reading through, not learning; and tomorrow I need to do module five, which is a whole fucking lot more, as it's synoptic comparative and contains huge chunks of last year's, and the last time I even looked at it was pre-Biology and Chemistry revision, three weeks ago. There's just no way I can get through it all tomorrow, and Monday will have to feature transition metal ions, entropy and not a lot else.
Ah, yes, I see a whole bunch of people defriending me because of how fucking boring I have become. I don't blame you, honestly. Go forth and multiply. Um. If you want to. You know.
Oh, meh. Meh, meh, meh. I suck. I meant to get up early today for revision purposes, but I ended up watching the second half of Doctor Who instead. Without having any idea what was going on at all, I really liked the twenty minutes I saw. Peter Davison is so unutterably adorable as the Doctor; he has this lovely wide-eyed and earnest thing going on that makes me want to pet him on the head and straighten his celery.
*Human beings have an autonomic nervous system. The USA has autonomous state governmeents. I learnt this the hard way.
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no subject
on 2005-06-26 03:27 pm (UTC)The bloke with the funny accent is from 1643 Civil War time.
It's all very confusing, and if there had been a mention of Cromwell I would have thrown something heavy at the TV. I hate Cromwell.
Yup, full marks. I'm around om the AQA website next year as one of th January examples along with another girl from my class, which is a bit lovely. And believe me when I tell you that I came out of that exam shaking and declaring I had failed. Apparently not. Honestly, you'll think it's doable on results day.
*pets* Your icon isn't emo, because it doesn't have a picture of you looking depressed with with lyrics from My Chemical Romance on it, or saying something like CUTE WITH THE E or something pathetic like that.
Think of the jellybabies and be merry. It's over soon.
no subject
on 2005-06-26 07:56 pm (UTC)I can do Politics. I can. *is resolute* Do we have a day fixed for jellybabies and squee? Would be fun to do it before either of us go away anywhere.
And, and and and, Androzani! Next Sunday! *bounce*
no subject
on 2005-06-27 08:23 pm (UTC)But I WILL and it will be SOON.
Androzani is next Sunday? I'm only going to have COLIN BAKER to sustain me through the summer? *flails*