Finishing exams!

It feels like most of my time this year has been spent revising. I got back to Swansea the Saturday before my exams and every day from then until my exams I would get up "early" (any time before 9am isn't "early morning" it's just "night time") and spent the whole day revising. More often than not procrastination would occur (at one point McPake was led outside my room eating rice pudding while I spun around on my desk chair) but inevitably, complete panic would kick in and I ended up back in front of my books.

Some of my flatmates have exams right up until Saturday afternoon; I was lucky that I only had four days to suffer through. I had three exams: Statistics on Monday; Individual and Abnormal Psychology on Tuesday; and Cognitive Psychology on Thursday. I'm just going to state the extremely obvious and say that University exams are difficult. The last two of mine involved 60 multiple choice questions and two short answers essays and yet I'm not even sure I achieved the 40% pass grade required for Cognitive psychology. Those three days were a massive wake-up call in terms of how much work I need to put in to next term.

My last exam was supposed to finish at 4pm. We're allowed to leave our exams any time after the first 45 minutes and before the last half an hour; 45 minutes before the end, I realised there was nothing more I could write. It was the worst out of the three exams (and the one I'm the most worried about achieving 40%) and out of the four options for the two short answer questions, I could only answer one. Not exactly the most heartening thing to experience during an exam, so as soon as I finished the essay questions, I packed up my things (almost forgetting my jacket in the process) and left. Even though it was raining outside (and I had to speak to one of the brusquest women I've ever met) walking back to my room knowing I was free from revision was the best feeling ever.

The best part of the day was without doubt the celebration. There's nothing better than Strongbow and blackcurrant, my best friend and a night at Sin City to celebrate having complete freedom. We even included a pre-drinking session at the pub campus. Oh, this is also where I completely bossed the juke box. Best moment ever when Afroman started playing and everyone just looked at me. I think respect is the best word to describe the faces I looked out at. For once, I was in a room of people who all agreed with my taste in music. I think I should treasure that because, as someone who has Doctor Jones and Swagger Jagger on my phone, I don't think that will ever happen again.

When I got back from Sin City that morning I wrote my friend McPake a good luck note. I've read it and I'm not sure whether I should be worried or just laughing at the fact I have no idea what I was on about when I wrote it. I mean, earth? An invisible bee? According to McPake I addressed it to "McPakey Hakey Wakey Dakey Lakey". Yeah. I know.

By 10:45am the next day I was dragging my suitcase to the train station feeling rougher than I have done in a while. The train journey into Cardiff was not pleasant and I was very glad when the train pulled into the station. I had a couple of hours of solitary shopping planned and I was very excited to start enjoying the freedom from revision.

I stopped in Starbucks first and attempted to cure my hangover with two pieces of fruit loaf bread, a tall vanilla latte and the biggest bottle of water they sell. I started reading my new book (which I've almost finished and it's fantastic) and enjoyed the feeling of having absolutely nothing to do.

I'd wanted to spend more time shopping but the heavy suitcase and even heavier back pack meant that walking around shops was just way too stressful. I ended up in Waterstones, desperately trying to convince myself that I didn't need to buy lots of new books. I settled for just buying 4 which I think is something to be massively proud of. This does mean that my list of books I want to read has moved way past 20 but that's totally fine.

I got home around 4pm and spent the evening trying to feel better before going to my friend's Luke's house party. It turns out that drinking more is actually the best cure for a hangover and by 9pm that night I was feeling fabulous. I obviously wasn't feeling clever because I thought allowing Luke to draw a moustache on my face with a Sharpie was a good idea. I am so glad it washed off the next morning.

I'm going back to University on Wednesday and as excited as I am to be back in Swansea, to see everyone and to get back into the swing of things... There really is nothing like being home.