TeenTimes/Two views on the Leaving Cert: 'Student adds up possible points, realises massive task ahead,' writes Tom Sheppard, in this diary of a typical evening's study while cleaning the house, de-fleaing the cat, writing for us - Luíseach Nic Eoin will look for anything to put off the studying

5pm: Student settles down to an evening's study. Books needed are taken from the bag and placed on the desk.

5.01pm: Student re-arranges books. All books must be in perfect symmetry. All Leaving Cert students know good Feng Shui leads to improved study.

5.02pm: A book is selected from the pile and opened. Student then spends several minutes, eyes glazed, staring aimlessly at the page in deep thought, a form of meditation before the impending study.

5.10pm: Student awakes from meditation and begins to read text.

5.21pm: Student notices window directly in front of him. Student then notices blazing sunshine and children's laughter. Student examines scene outside the window more intensely; he will notice the grass an almost luminous shade of green, reflecting the sun.

Student believes grass is mocking him.

5.27pm: Student returns to reading text. In order to aid study, student convinces himself that reproduction of bread mould is actually very interesting, and will be of great use to him in later life.

5.30pm: Student makes note to research "delusional" on the internet. Continues reading.

5.45pm: Subject change. English poetry book is selected. Student begins reading.

6pm: Student finishes reading introduction in poetry book, opens Yeats page.

6.01pm: Student reads, "I will arise and go now." Student begins to think about Leaving Cert holiday: warm days spent relaxing in parks, having fun, or going to parties. Student begins to think of possibilities of days without study (student will later spend these days on the couch, in close proximity to a television). Student ponders various scenarios for the summer months, claiming it "exercises the imagination" in preparation for the English Paper 1. Student returns to aforementioned meditative state.

6.30pm: Student awakes from meditative state. Student cleans drool from books, wipes sleep from eyes. Student prepares notes on Yeats's "longing to get away". Student makes note to ask Yeats for keys to his Inisfree cabin.

7pm: Student takes well-deserved break. Television is powerful tool in the restoration of the mind.

8pm: Student returns from "15-minute break"; begins to study the poetry of Elizabeth Bishop. Attempts to find meaning in The Fish, fails, and concludes it is just about a fish. Student has no interest in fishing and changes subject.

8.14pm: Student returns to studying "outside world", and watches tearfully, as the sun sinks away. Student takes pleasure in the fact that aforementioned children must now return to home.

8.30pm: Student attempts to re-write history by giving many of the most prominent historical figures moustaches, glasses, and various tattoos in history book.

8.45pm: Student begins to read about Jarrow march, realises he/she is reading about Jarrow march, stops.

8.46pm: Student adds up possible points for 3,453rd time. Realises the massive task ahead.

8.47pm: Student finishes study. Student worn out.

Tom Sheppard (18) is in Leaving Cert at Blackrock College, Co Dublin

My head hurts. Reeally hurts. It may be because I have just finished what is my, at a conservative estimate, gazillionth cup of tea in the past 48 hours and the tea hangover has once again set in, complete with a dry mouth that feels like a small rodent died in it - or it could be the Leaving Cert.

Lately that has become my answer to everything. "Hey, you! Why didn't you clear the table?" Oh, I need to study for my Leaving. "Hey! When was the last time you washed?" Um, I was busy studying?

You see, that'd be all well and good, except that I can't. Study, I mean. Those of my avid readers who remember the Teen Times column I wrote last August may also recall my penchant for procrastination: I'll clean my room after the game of spider solitaire that I've been playing for three weeks finishes. But now I've got other cats to whip (as my Français Oral so charmingly puts it).

I have no concentration span at all. I have only a measly month until my Leaving Cert, and it's all I can do to stop myself from screaming at times. Recognise the symptoms? You feel fine as you sit down to your desk, but come 11pm you realise you've missed Desperate Housewives, you've written an essay that's incomprehensible even to you, and then: the final straw. You can't find matching pillowcases and so you lie down on the ground to howl.

It's cruel, really it is. I need to get many As for the course I want, and yet I cannot study. It's like my brain has a safety mechanism that shuts down when I open a maths book. I search for anything to put off the learning - I clean the house, I de-flea the cat, I write articles for The Irish Times.

But it just doesn't go away. The physics paper that I was meant to do still lingers upon my bed, waiting for me, beckoning.

And the headache won't go away. During my orals, I got into the unfortunate habit of napping after school, and now it seems I can't function without my snooze. Help! I need a psychiatrist. Or maybe a lobotomist. Anything to stop the pulsing in my skull.

Stress, they say. Stress is what causes it. They tell me to take a break, but how can I take a break when I'm not bloody studying?

I think I need another cup of tea.

Luíseach Nic Eoin (18) is in Leaving Cert at Scoil Chaitríona, Dublin

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