Appetite For Distraction
The heat in the exam hall, the pink booklets, the white-knuckle nausea: yes, it’s the time of year when all the old Leaving Cert terrors come flooding back for millennials and the middle-aged alike
One of my clearest memories of my Leaving Cert is that it was fecking roasting. The exams were in a cruelly windowed hall, magnifying the strength of the sun’s rays tenfold; and we had to wear full uniform, ties and all. If you’ve ever had sweat patches behind your knees in a pair of thick maroon tights, you’ll know what I mean.
It’s a cliché at this stage, but every year we thank ...
