In the wee hours of the morning today (thirteen hours ago, to be exact), I was still up and very much awake, frantically skimming the chapters I felt I didn't have a firm grip on. By 'frantically skimming', I mean jumping from one chapter to another, scanning through the words in bold, listing down faktors and kesans in my head, and trying not to cry. 'Cause I'm hardcore like that.
No studying had been done in the afternoon, because I'd caved in and slept; I'm sick, stop looking at me like that. There'd been a nighttime visit to the doctor before dinner, which my mom was kind enough to brave the SS2 traffic for. (If there's one thing I like about being sick, it's realising how much my parents care about me.) As it turns out, yours truly has had a throat infection since two days before the SPM and didn't know it. No wonder I felt so icky.
(From Clipart Guide.)
Anyway. Five hours later, I was in school feeling slightly more prepared than I previously had before my crazed cramming session. I also felt like poo, but, well, desperate measures had to be taken. I'd done exams with less than four and a half hours' sleep the night before, after all...but then again, I didn't have bacteria throwing a party in my throat any of those times.
The first paper went by rather uneventfully. I'd actually been considering asking if I could leave the room at 8.30 a.m. on the dot (candidates aren't allowed to leave during the first and last thirty minutes of the paper, and this paper was, well, one hour), but my brain decided to slow way down after I'd finished shading my answers, so I took forever to check. Finished right on the dot.
We had an hour before Paper 2. My head was getting hot 'n heavy (get your minds out of the gutter!) and I could not, could not read anything. Here's how woozy I felt: when Kent's ringtone -- Magic by B.O.B. and Rivers Cuomo -- sounded as he got a call, I started screaming/singing along. Then Sarah put a hand to my forehead and we realised I had one hell of a temperature. Thank God I'd brought a dose of paracetamol. Once it'd kicked in, we realised we had like twenty minutes left, and kicked into hyper study mode. You should've seen me. Bob had to tell me to calm down. Twice.
(From Venue at the Grove.)
However, Paper 2 went well for me. I feel a bit uncomfortable saying that since practically everyone I know hated it, but, well, really -- I thought it was good. The lesson to take from this is to not fully trust any tips, I suppose. They are, after all, just spotted topics, so the ministry can -- and, in this case, did -- slam us with other topics of their choice. Just because.
So be careful out there, everyone in the murky depths of the SPM. Be vewy, vewy quie-- I mean, careful.
Good luck and all the best to fellow Fifth Formers for our remaining papers! (Did you spot the aliteration?) The past two years of our schooling life has led up to this, so let us not disappoint! Go! Fight! WIN!