I sit here writing from my couch, curled up in foetal position, with my phone at 2% battery, currently starving because I forgot the council switched off the electricity today. With most of my electronic entertainment sources cut off, I’m forced to listen to the sounds of cars driving past, and the birds chirping outside, I can even hear all the clocks in my house ticking. I might as well brush my teeth for 2 hours to keep myself entertained. Do I even have hot water?!?!?! … Yes, yes I do (thank god). It makes me wonder what I used to do back in primary school before TV and the internet became important to me.

I remember I used to draw and read and it would entertain me for hours, but now I haven’t even picked up a pencil or a book since the end of HSC. I thought I would end up reading at least a book a week, and discovering new music, and doing puzzles, and working out, and watching every movie on the face of the earth, and … well none of that happened. I expected a lot more out of this holiday, like being able to stay out really late with friends and going to beaches and having more parties – but everyone ended up with jobs that barely overlap and sometimes it’s a lack of motivation since we've had all this time to laze around and enjoy a guilt-free break before uni starts and also my parents still don't let me out later than 10pm.

I remember my expectations were high going in to senior year. I thought “yeah, I’ll be so much more motivated! I’ll get all this work done and keep up to date with my notes!” I prepared for it to be an extremely stressful and difficult period, especially since these were the years that counted. But, a term into year 11, everyone realised it wasn't that important anymore, I mean the real thing was the year after – so I stopped trying, as did most other people, my grades dropped and I didn't care.

Then term 4, year 12. Again, my motivation spiked – I was doing all my work and keeping organised, I had a folder and everything, but it still hadn't hit me yet that this was my last and most important year. The 6 week break went by way too quickly and I accomplished nothing but finishing a handful of books that had nothing to do with my subjects.

When half-yearlies came around, I hadn't had enough preparation, I’d thought more about what I’d do in uni rather than focusing on studying and I bombed them. This was a wake-up call for me. I’d relaxed too much and I started getting really worried about how I would get my 95 ATAR, at that point I’d never thought I’d get there. 

I started thinking realistically. Where were the areas I needed improvement on – in my case it was everything but English and Biology. I got a tutor, and I started working a lot harder, and by the time the trials came around I was a lot more prepared.

The thing I'd been dreading had finally arrived - the HSC. Sitting in the first exam, I had sweaty palms and shaky hands and I felt like throwing up what little I'd eaten. Everyone watched the clock blink - 10:15. I definitely expected so much more pressure and stress, but it felt almost normal after a year of consecutive exam blocks and assessment tasks. 

I remember feeling so ecstatic and relieved following my last exam - even if I knew I'd stuffed up a question here and there, it didn't matter to me because my HSC was over and I was free. I'd waited so long for post-HSC and the fostering feeling of freedom was so strong that when it finally arrived, it felt so amazing. In the end, all that hard work I put in after actually finding something to strive for, that I knew was within my potential, I achieved that goal. And even with how my holidays ended up, I'm extremely happy with what I've done.

I guess my message is that it’s good to have high expectations, but it’s always better to be realistic because it's so satisfying to achieve what you set out to achieve rather than being left disappointed with what you couldn't do.