Today was my first real exam of the year. A 3.5 hour exam on my open book international trade law that I was not fully prepared for, as I have spent the last 2 weeks of my life just trying to cobble together some semblance of understanding for my Corporations class.
And it began like any other day.
I woke up at 8 am, after going to bed at 11, well-rested, with plenty of time before my 10:30 exam. I lounged around, making a cup of coffee, lightly reading over my outline to see if I could build any more connections between widely differing economic theories, WTO policies, and the minutiae of statutory construction that the WTO's dispute resolution bodies seem to relish. Considering that I had no food in my apartment, I decided to stop by CVS on the way to school to pick up my faithful enormo-bottle of caffeinated and sugary exam-sustaining green or yellow colored beverage (too many adjectives?), and to pick up some sort of cake or snack to serve as my breakfast for the day. (I chose an enormous coffee cake. Good stuff.)
Anyhow, considering that I had an hour and a half before the exam, I decided that I would walk to the exam instead of taking my bike so I could read over my outline during the 30 minute walk, and so I could go to CVS without the hassling of crossing through a thoroughly nasty intersection on my bike. This was the first time in about a month that I haven't ridden my bike to campus.
While walking to CVS I underwent a mild panic. Did I forget anything? Digital media to save my exam? (Checked twice) My student ID? (Checked 3 times) My power cable for my computer, which I had left behind for an exam last year resulting in a panicky, terrified drive home? (Checked twice) Water bottle? (It was bouncing up against my leg, so it was there.) Music, so I wouldn't be distracted by other people before the exam? (Check.) My outlines for the exam? (In my hands.) Satisfied, I went into CVS, spent 5 or 10 minutes leisurely strolling through the aisles looking for breakfast and caffeine.
I arrived in the cavernous exam room at 9:30, with an hour to spare. I was the only one there, and I picked the very front-most seat in the room, as usual, because I hate watching other people take their exams (it freaks me out to see people typing huge bodies of text while I'm trying to figure out what the hell is going on.) I prefer to pretend that no one else exists for those 3-4 hours. Around 9:45, I decided to go buy a bucket of Starbucks, to fill my water bottle to the brim, and to leisurely smoke a cigarette outside. Around 10, other students started trickling in and unpacking their things...so I just looked over my outline in boredom.
At 10:08, I decided to unpack my bag. Upon opening my bag, I noticed a thin red book next to my WTO Statutory supplement. A Thin red book...
...my corporations book.
Panic and confusion filled me...I considered 10,000 things in the next minute as I furiously dug around my things. Could I make it home on time? Do I need my book? Am I really going to fuck up an entire year of work because I forgot to pack the right fucking book? How long does it take to run home? Could I take the T? WHY DIDN'T I RIDE MY FUCKING BIKE TODAY!? If I make it home, could I drive back in Cambridge traffic? Every option was no option.
At 10:09 I made my decision. I asked the proctors if there was any reason they would be starting before 10:30...and I was told "We will start at exactly 10:30. Run fast!"
And I did. I ran. Like an idiot...in a blazer, dress shirt, jeans, and flat shoes. I ran, panted, stopped, ran some more. I ran past upscale Harvard types, past bums at the T station, past goth hippies on the corner, past the assorted people at the bus stops, past 10,000 cars on their way to work, past old people who got in my way (and I apparently frightened)...like an idiot who hasn't run in 2 years -- not the gallop of a confident horse, but the scampering of a frightened donkey. I arrived home at 10:22, completely destroyed. I couldn't breathe, I was wheezing, my legs burned...I was pouring sweat...I saw my book on the ground, grabbed it, stuffed it into a bookbag, literally threw my bike out of my apartment so I wouldn't have to carefully try and squeeze it through the door, and took back off for my exam on bike.
The bike ride, as expected, was atrocious. My thighs burned and refused to push harder, the sweat was starting to soak through my shirt...But I finally pulled into the school, ran it straight into the bike rack, locked my bike and checked the time. 10:29. And so I ran again, the last 200 yards...
I arrived in the classroom at 10:30, on the dot. And the elderly proctors smiled at me, gestured in my direction to the entire classroom, obviously having explained what I was doing...and told me I made it right on time.
Of course, the actual anxiety of the situation ended here...but there are no happy endings. For the next 45 minutes, I began to pour sweat. You know when you run really hard for a few minutes and don't sweat at all until you stop to catch your breath? That was me for the first 45 minutes of the exam. I disgustingly used my blazer as a sweat rag...and just took the damned test, panting like a dog. And don't forget the coughing and wheezing and throat clearing as my body retaliated for the workout. Three and a half hours later, I was done with my first full Harvard exam for my first real grade in this place.
...I used my book once.
The moral of the story? If you want it bad enough, you can cover 3 miles, round-trip, in 20 minutes if you have a bike for half of it.
...But it fucking sucks, so remember your fucking book.
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