Today was the third day of my two-week long testweek. You might be wondering: 'Sjoukje, why are you writing a blogpost? Shouldn't you be reading about 'The Handmaid's Tale', written by Margaret Atwood, the book that has been staring at you for the past twenty minutes?'
Well, let me tell you. I have always enjoyed test weeks (I mean: three hours or less of school per day and you don't really have to study because it's so much you can't actually study) and I am also enjoying these two weeks as well. And that is what worries me.
Everybody around me has been so stressed out, and I have been trying to stress myself out as well. All everybody seems to talk, think and even dream about is school and don't get me wrong, I have my concerns as well (I've never been good at maths and I believe I'm a bit behind with my art history classes as well) but I don't seem to be able to live up to the stress levels everyone around me has reached. That concerns me - am I too relaxed about all this? Am I doing to little?
Or is everybody around me going crazy and am I the sane one?
The terrifying thing is, that I will find this out in June. I am in my final year and I have so many plans for next year (read: July) and all those dreams and actual plans would be shattered if I failed this year.
Final years are terrifying. If I'd be the master of schools, or even the principal of a school (I don't really know who decides about test weeks et cetera but imagine me being that actual person) I'd cancel every exam- and test week. If the student is doing well during the year, if grades are sufficient, why would you make a person go insane by letting him/her study for huge tests, trying to fit (in my case) 6 years of school into his/her head in only one night (or, longer, for the people who are more enthusiastic and motivated than me)?
Too bad I am not that person. 'The Handmaid's Tale' has stopped staring, it is now screaming at me to pick him up and I think I will have to: it's 22:43h and I want to go to sleep in about one hour. I hear my phone screaming from behind me: 'Don't forget about me! You downloaded the Netflix app! Mad Men, Sjoukje, Mad Men!' - my phone is more persuasive. At least, that is what I tell myself.