Exam revision blues

Thursday May 20, 2010

'What did you do on election night, Digby?' That is the question.

The answer has varied from interrogator to interrogator, and I have yet to concoct an answer that satisfactorily combines truth with not seeming an utter pillock.

I'd really love to be able to write that I didn't spend the evening of Thursday, May 6,
2010, getting drunk on my own and watching as much TV coverage as possible before passing out at around 4.20am, but, alas, my continued failure to turn my kettle into a time machine makes this impossible.

Is this as embarrassing as I suspect it might be? Fortunately, I don't need to address such a question right now, as I have just come out of an exam.

The exam period is always weird; as soon as it starts to warm up, the good student is obliged to remain indoors. I have tried working outside. It has not worked.

But I'm not sure revising inside goes any further... any given hour I dedicate to studying can be broken down thus:- Facebook 'research': 30 minutes. Reading Wikipedia articles concerning such relevant topics as 'Gin in fiction':12 minutes. Obsessively checking my various email accounts for signs that I am indeed still alive, and have yet to arrive in purgatory: eight minutes. Rigorous independent study: 10 minutes.

I have always had a difficult relationship with studying. While others can balance a productive study routine with a normal social life, I cannot live with myself because of the guilt of leaving for a period of more than an hour.

Paradoxically, this does not mean that I learn much. I have long upheld the theory that any activity more strenuous than uncorking a bottle of wine and occasionally remembering to breathe is impossible after 6pm.

However, for two months every year I become a hermit. Revision seems to be about showing off how dull I can make life; any actual knowledge gleaned from this is purely accidental.

Having said this, on my course in-depth revision for an exam lasting an hour is essentially pointless. Basic understanding generally suffices.

After all, exams can be quite fun, if only for the adrenaline rush before and the collective sigh of relief after.

This morning I was a mere stone's throw away from the Houses of Parliament and even the beleaguered civil servants and politicians gave us pitying looks as we piled into the exam hall. "Glad I'll never have to do that again," I overheard as I switched off my bargain-basement mobile phone.

Just for a brief moment, I felt very important indeed... maybe this closeted existence is worth it after all.

Digby Warde-Aldam

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