‘Week eight of term three’: Oh! Such beautiful words! For the vast majority of us, this delightful date marks the end of the exam period and sees the true start to the summer; no more revision, no more late-night cramming, just twelve glorious weeks of sunshine and smiles and not an essay deadline in sight. Aaaah, halcyon days indeed! Whatever you’re doing, just stop for one moment and take a deep breath…doesn’t it taste good? That, my friends, is the unmistakable tang of freedom.
Nothing can beat the feeling of knowing that your exams are over for another year. All that stress, all that struggle, vanquished with the folding of the edge of an exam paper. Pens down, people: it’s party time. The only study with which you must now concern yourself is in the choosing of which festivals you will blow the last of your cash on: Glasto for the posers, V for the pop fans, Latitude for the purists, Rebellion for the punks, and a plethora of others besides, all waiting to part you from your hard earned dough. Perhaps a European jaunt? I believe Roskilde has a good line-up this year. Or Hideout for the dance-heads? My point is, now is your time; you’re in the privileged position of having a quarter of a year to do with what you please, so go forth and throw some shapes.
Whichever year of study you are about to kiss goodbye to, rest assured there is plenty more work on the horizon. For you first years, week eight marks the end of your dry run: from October, everything really matters. Second years will be recovering from the shock of a greatly increased workload, and the realisation that this past year and the next will dictate their final degree. As for you third years, well, your undergraduate life is all but over, the next step is either the working world or continuing education. So wherever you find yourself, now is the time to let your hair down and enjoy the brief interval. If your exam results prove disappointing, it’s not the end of the world. Freshers can just heed the warning and pull their proverbial socks up; for sophomores, there’s still one more year in which to raise your game and make the most of that all-important exit-velocity; and as for final year students, at the very worst there’s always re-sits. They say that these are the best years of your life and, whoever ‘they’ are, they’re right. This is no time for regrets, what’s done is done and there’ll be plenty more of it to come. Go. Enjoy the summer. Heaven knows it won’t last long.
