The dreaded and feared day: exam day. As the test booklets are being handed out, I take a second to take a deep breath: I will ace this exam. The proctor starts the clock, and the collective sound of flipping pages fills the silence of the room.

It’s begun.

I have to pace my time. Given only a couple of seconds for each question, it’s imperative that I answer the question and move on. Can’t linger too long or I fall off the horse, keep moving. Watch the clock and make sure I’m going fast enough but not rushing. Stupid mistakes can be made like that. Keep my pace and avoid distractions and tricks.

Don’t panic and continue with a level head. The best way to avoid easily avoidable mistakes is to stay calm. Focus on myself, the pencil in my hand, and the booklet on my desk. Everything else melts away. Nothing but what is in front of me right now. No thoughts about the future or the past, only the present. I’m smart and I’m prepared. I will do well.

Be efficient. Eliminate choices when I can and skip the fluff. Only absorb what is absolutely necessary. Take what I need and trash the rest, only consider what’s important. No need to read the entire text until absolutely necessary, only read what the question asks. If the answer doesn’t fit 100%, it’s not the answer.

Don’t second guess myself. Trust myself and trust my gut. Doubt will do no good and only cause more turmoil. If I pick the answer, the answer is good. There’s no time to doubt, I trust myself and my knowledge. Don’t overthink it and keep moving.

Most importantly, remember that this exam doesn’t define who I am. This crude 3 hour test in which I am expected to cram everything I’ve learned in the past three years doesn’t reflect all of the work I’ve put in my entire life to my hobbies, to my loved ones, to my passions. The test doesn’t know that I want to become a mechanical engineer to help NASA explore the intricacies of the world or that I like to watch movies with my family on the weekends. It doesn’t know that I love to sing to broadway musicals or that I could spend forever on a beach with the wind in my hair. So I can ace this test, or I could bomb it, but I’ll still be me. But I’m confident, I aced it for sure.

The timer beeps.

“Okay, please put down your pencils.”