stripped bare

Shoulda Woulda Coulda

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I should be burying my face in my notes right now, in preparation for my first paper tomorrow. However, nothing prepared me for the panic that struck me like lightning when I looked at the time and then back at the notes before me : The formulae I wrote down last year looked like Greek to me now. As I tried to skip that chapter and hope that the next one looked more familiar, my heart thumped faster and faster as the words start to jumble up and the words started to look incoherent. Tears started to prick at the back of my eyes, and I began to feel alone and useless. I believe I just suffered my first panic attack.

I could do the stupid thing and simply not turn up for the paper tomorrow. But that would bring the probability of me passing the paper to zero. I’m afraid to even touch my notes now, really really afraid, not just a matter of speaking. I’m afraid that they won’t cooperate, and that would further affect my ability to focus. My back aches from crouching over the table for long periods. My right arm is stung with the pain of arthritis. I simply can’t bring my attention back to the dreaded stack of papers beside me.

I would fake an illness if I had the guts to. Get a letter from the hospital. In times like these I start questioning myself : why didn’t I insist on getting the 2 weeks break from work to study for my papers? Why didn’t I start studying earlier, like 3 months ago? Why hadn’t I pass my papers before this? Why am I so stupid?

I’ve decided not to mug for my paper anymore. I’m just gonna walk into the exam hall with whatever I had stuffed into my brain and take a shot into the wild. I have one more chapter left worth revising and after that I’m gonna spend the rest of my waking minutes consoling myself and easing the panic away. Ironically, I may be spending the time from now til tomorrow, not preparing for my paper tomorrow, but preparing to fail the paper.


Written by smudgi3

May 25, 2006, Thursday at 23:59

Posted in Dear Diary

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