I had my first final– excuse me, exam— today, for the Philosophy of Science. I wore my typical exam attire: Millburn t-shirt, symbolic of how I am a master of writing in-class essays; Colgate sweatshirt, symbolic of how I am an ace bullshitter; and pajama pants and ski socks and crocs, symbolic of how I just don’t give a crap anymore.
On my way over, I was given couple funny looks, plus one look of outright sympathy, as I was carrying nothing with me but a couple of pages of notes I read frantically as I walked to my fate.
I was intimidated from the start. Two unkind looking proctors had already administered the papers in an arrangement so that nobody could cheat. We had to sign papers promising we had not cheated or done anything wrong. They checked our names against our student IDs when they collected the signatures. If we had to go to the bathroom, one of them would walk out with us and (I’m assuming) enter the bathroom with us. It was too intense for my liking.
Anyway, I knew exactly what was going to be on the exam. I had copies of exams from the previous 4 years. I’d practiced 6 of the 20some possible questions, knowing I’d only need to answer 4 of them. I felt ok about it. Not great, but ok. And so I answered the 4 I knew best and called it a day.
Here’s the problem: I was the first one done. I hate being the first one done. I knew from the start I wouldn’t need the whole 3 hours to write just 4 responses to questions that we’d known ahead of time, especially because they were straight recall questions, very little application needed. But I was done after a little over an hour, maybe an hour and a quarter. I looked around, saw people writing, writing, writing, filling up their answer books. I hadn’t come close to filling mine. But I’d felt I’d adequately covered the questions. What happened?? Were people writing novels, just spewing everything they knew on the topic regardless of the question they were supposed to answer? Or did they actually know that much more than I did? Honestly, I don’t know how the latter can be true. Maybe they knew a little more… but not a whole hour’s worth more. And hadn’t I answered the questions? Hadn’t I given exactly the response requested and nothing superfluous? Had I needed to give superfluous data? Do teachers here like that? I HAVE NO IDEA. But I’m kind of petrified to know now. This exam is worth 70% of my grade for the year. What have I done????
I’m going to not think about it anymore. It’s over, done. No more philosophy for moi.
Now there are two things to worry about for the immediate future: 1. the exam I have tomorrow, for NZ environmental history, the one I haven’t started studying for yet. Dont’ worry, I feel ok about it. Nothing another late night can’t solve. And 2: this afternoon’s Amuricah Partaaaay!! I cannot WAIT to introduce Rachel and Cleo and Maria to good ole American goodness of Hostess products and Cheese in a Can… errrr… I guess you could call it goodness, in a deranged world.
I’ll be getting video footage of the whole event. I’d highly encourage you watch it. It’s gonna be great.