I let out a huge breath as I wrap up my English essay. I close my "blue book" exam booklet, and click my pen to retract the point. Finally, I finished, and I look around the room. Only about 7 or so people were left. One of my friends just finished, and after I hand in my test booklet and test packet in, we walk out together.
Wrapping up the essay had been one of hardest parts. What to put, how to summarize without listing or repeating, how to leave the reader feeling completed, and how to make myself feel done.
Nonetheless, I succeeded okay, at least. I wrote a little over 5 pages, which resulted in a sore wrist and a depleted pen. Who cares, though? I finished my hardest final. The English final is worth a third of my English semester grade, much larger than my other finals. Despite reassurances that this test cannot lower my semester grade (even if I do horribly on it), it was natural to feel nervous.
Not only that, we had to write a complete, cogent, cohesive analysis on a short story, "The War Prayer" by Mark Twain, or poem, "Three Brown Girls Singing". I chose the short story option, despite the fact that it was much longer than the poem. (By the way, I seriously recommend the story to you.)
Had I allowed myself to think about how much I would have to write in order to satisfy myself, I would have freaked out. However, I didn't, and just forced myself to write, no questions asked. I was pleasantly surprised I could write so fast and relatively well. I did great, I told myself, even though I definitely didn't write as well as I could have. Unfortunately, that is the plight of testing: hurried essays and incomplete satisfactions.
Well, at least I'm done with the hardest final. One down, three more to go!!
oh hey. is this alice chang?
ReplyDelete-carmen gewirth
oh wait, alice hwu?
ReplyDelete