The mocks, the orals and the kick in the face.

Basically, I’ll save an introduction and merely direct you to the “Biography” section. Not to skimp on any formalities though, hi , my name’s Marie and nice to meet you/type at you.

So after careful consideration, I have figured out why they call The Mocks, “The Mocks”. Nothing to do with them not being “the real deal”, oh deary no. It’s because, quite simply, they are mocking you. Taunting you with questions that you recognise but just don’t know spot on.  They are bullies of  the mind, laughing at your confused expression and  enjoying your discomfort and general unease. Also in my case, infecting you with bacteria so you become the token sick person in the exam hall coughing and sneezing their way through the exams. Then, when your think they’ve gone and that maybe you’re safe for a while…. BANG, you realize that something worse is here. The results. Forgot about them for a while. Surely having to sit the exams themselves was painful enough? Oh no. This bully wants not only your lunch money but your first born child, favourite shoes and best friend too.

Okay, I’ll stop talking in a weird, not very thought out manner. So yesterday I got my first result from the mocks. It was what I was expecting and truthfully what I deserve but at the same time it was painful to see a result that I know I can surpass. While in my defence, it was a drastic paper, Latin. And I do concede that I spent most of the days before studying for Maths 2 in a feverish fashion due to timetable conflicts which lead to them being on the same day.  Still! I was really upset to see that in one of my favourite subjects, I sat a terrible paper. I just hope that it only gets better.

I ask myself, where is the year going? When we were younger the mocks and orals always seemed like this Really Big Things that you’d be counting down the days to in anticipation, be fully prepared for and think of as a really big deal. In reality, it’s so much different. While I have been busy all year and studying and preparing and keeping focused, these big huge milestones in the year have just sprung up out of no-where. Much like a bully would I think… Hmm…

I’m suddenly trying to make myself fluent in a language I’ve been speaking for nearly fourteen years. Does that sound ridiculous to anybody else? I mean, I personally love the Irish language, the blas, the sayings, the nonsense phraseology. But the curriculum makes it so that I spend all my time reading about  seemingly miserable people or trying to remember Stair, a concept which in theory would be great to have us learn but in reality what happens is that people learn off reams of information only to regurgitate them word for word. Is that really learning? If we had all the time that we need we might actually nail it you know, until then the system is faulted without a doubt and in the long term it is the language itself that is suffering. 

That’s all for now but no doubt I’m going to spend the next few days trying to sort out the aftermath of the results.  It’s like fallout or something. So many casualties, mainly my self belief.  It feels like someone somewhere is laughing manically in a tyrannical fashion, all in all, mocking.

m