First of all, why do they bother to call them finals? It just sounds so forced. It’s not like it’s your last one unless you’re graduating. They should call it what it is- a cliff hanger. On the bubble for an A? Well let’s just see how you do this week. The best ones are the cumulative exams. Cram everything you’ve learned into one test, have them all in one week, and for shits and giggle lets throw a time limit on it! Sound fun? You too can be the winner of a depressing spring break or a throw down, depending on the outcome. They need disclaimers too. Like the drug commercials. You know, the ones where they have an auctioneer rattle them all off in 30 seconds? Side effects may include, sleeplessnightstestanxietyhandcrampsstresseatinghangrynessdaydrinkingnarcolepsyandblurredvision.
My finals week went well. Aced one and managed an A in the other. I say managed because I really didn’t care about the “other” but needed the A. I should have ran the other direction the minute I had to count the number of fonts used in her online curriculum. Paragraphs? I mean what fun is that when you can have one long, useless run on sentence?
Finals happen at the worst time in the term. You’re brain is  fried and devoid of any actual thought process after having virtually run a mental marathon the previous few weeks. You begin to day dream of only having to decide what to have for breakfast when ever you decide to get up. That glazed look takes over and you nod when your professor looks for any signs of life in the classroom. You exchange looks with your lab partner as if she  could translate what resembled English but entered your ears in what might as well have been Swahili.
Ya know what I hate on tests? The True vs False option. I mean come on. Who are we kidding? They are usually written to twist your own thoughts into such a muddled mess that you can’t think straight. There’s no “D. All of the above” or “E. None of the above” to choose from. You’re forced into a 50/50 chance of looking like you’re a bumbling idiot that has not idea what you’re talking about.
Finals are like that food in the back of the refrigerator you’re not too sure about. The stuff in the tupperware you swear you put in there a few days ago and try to reason is perfectly fine even after having to smell it for confirmation. You go into the classroom convincing yourself you’ve studied enough. You get the exam, write your name, and begin filling in bubbles like a boss. You cruise through the first dozen or so questions already picturing the A grade and choosing what beer you want to grab after class to celebrate. Then it happens. The question to rip your self confidence to shreds. The train comes to a screeching halt and all of the sudden the lights and sirens come on and a voice speaks in your head, “Abort, abort!”. You start sweating, you tell yourself, “You got this! Breathe!”. You do a couple shoulder shrugs, rotate your neck as if loosening up and stretching will provide the moment of clarity you so desperately need. You skip to the next question and boom- there’s another one. Panic mode sets in thoughts of repeating the class slowly creep into your head. Suddenly the walk back to your car feel as though it will be a mile long walk of shame. You skip to the next and you know it. No hesitation, no second guessing. You pick up the pace, cruising along, self confidence beginning to return. You perk up and can see the finish line. Then another crushing blow to your soul. Three more questions you swear were never mentioned in the study guides or text.
This roller coaster of sweat, anxiety, and what can feel like a runners high continues for an hour until you reach the finish line. You’re done. Silence. You stare at your exam knowing that at this moment everything is fine-until you turn it in and it’s graded. You double and triple check to make sure you’ve completed every question. Blanks are unacceptable since you have a chance that your educated (aheam..) guess will pay off. Name? Check. Date? Check. Blanks? Nope. Better change that last answer since the first one left room for questioning. Wait- might change two more just to be certain. You walk your exam up to the professors desk, let go, and exit the room as fast as possible to quickly  get to your books and see if you answered correctly. You wait for your fellow classmates to join you for reassurance. At this point all doubt has set in and you only  hope to pass. Then the grades post. A B. Damn – guess I shouldn’t have changed those last few answers. Or was it the one about…? Nah.. Time to grab that beer.