Mid-term shopping trip sets pen flowing

EXAM DIARY:W ELL, OOH la la. J'adore la Leaving Cert. So much so that after yesterday's French exam I went home and reworked my CAO form to include French, Russian and English. Don't get me wrong, I still want to be a doctor, but since I think this is my last shot at the Leaving, I'd better make allowances for an upset.

I loved the French exam so much that I overwrote in every section. My French teacher wisely warned us against that - the more you write, she said, the more mistakes you're likely to make. But they asked me about shopping on the Champs Élysées - and that's where I spent mid-term! I simply had to tell all.

I've managed to get an A1 in French for the last two years, so you'd think that would be a banker. But there's such a thing as peaking too soon.

With art history, on the other hand, I haven't peaked yet, so I face today with a measure of trepidation. I've only ever reached B1 in art.

My still-life painting of a pair of Louis Vuittons and bottle of Jack Daniels is a masterpiece - in my eyes. But, as Ambrose Bierce observed, painting is the art of protecting flat surfaces from the weather and exposing them to the critic. I hope this year's critic has a shoe fetish to match my own.

I stuck English on the change of mind form because, as you'll know if you're reading this, I've had a sudden bout of journalism. I haven't received much acclaim from my fellow students because they are sensibly interested in their exams rather than mine.

However, I do have a small and loyal following in the local Tesco, chiefly because my boyfriend works there and leaves the paper open on my column in the canteen every morning.

So over muffins and builder's blend (or mung beans and soy latte - I'm sure the Tesco brigade are as worried about the bikini season as I am), the good grocers are going through the tribulations of the Leaving Cert with me.

I'm sure they only glance over this page out of deference to my boyfriend. He and I are kindred spirits - after four years of engineering he's finishing up his degree and starting a new one in business and Chinese.

We've bonded over our mutual inability to quit education. His co-workers must despair as they teach him to face off the canned goods, only to have him transfer to frozen foods before he's lifted a finger. So here's a big shout to my Tesco community - I dedicate today's essay on Botticelli to you.

And there I'll leave it, like GK Chesterton; art, like morality, consists of drawing a line somewhere.

Laura Brady is a repeat Leaving Cert student at the Institute of Education, Dublin