I’m now in Sixth Form, which means that despite what my mum said was going to happen, I did well enough in my GCSEs to go on to take A levels.
I’m already beginning to find A levels far more interesting than GCSEs, because you get treated like an adult by the teachers, rather than someone who they just have to get through an exam.
Obviously, my mum sees the fact that I am now in sixth form as an opportunity to enforce yet more hours of torturous study upon me. I can see the point of going over what you did in class that day and revise it a bit, but what I don’t understand is why my mum thinks that the best course of action for me to take is to spend two hours a night re-learning what I’ve already learnt at school until my head starts spinning.
To be honest, most of the work is fairly easy to understand (so far, at least!). I reckon that if I can keep up with all the work, I’ll be fine. Despite the fact you always hear horror stories from older guys about “how much work you’re going to have to do“, and people keep on telling you how, as my mate Ed put it “last summer was the last free summer of your life”, really I don’t feel any different to last year.
If anything, the free periods that we have make it seem like a holiday. I say “free”, but my mum is always telling me that they should be used for studying.
However, I happen to know that my dad spent his free periods sitting around drinking tea. That’s how to do things in Sixth Form.
And he did fine in his A levels. Well, sort of……