It’s seven o’clock in the morning. It’s the day of my calculus final. I am lying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Although I am already awake for the last three hours, I don’t want to get out of bed. I force myself into the shower, put on a loose hoodie and a pair of jeans, eat my morning toast with butter and marmalade and make my way to the tram station. In the tram I try to distract myself with my phone, but suddenly the speakers sound: “Ladies and Gentlemen, due to technical problems we run 15 minutes behind schedule.” My heart starts pounding, then racing. Am I gonna fail my exam because I’m late? At my final stop, I jump down the stairs of the tram and sprint towards my high school. On the main street I bump into a man: “Hey! Watch out where you’re going!” he shouts. I keep running because there is no time for apologising. As I reach my high school, I jump up the stairs. Room 408, here it is. I rip open the door. “Brenninkmeijer, you’re five minutes late!” Professor Skrivanek shouts. I pleadingly look into his eyes and he mercifully hands my an exam paper. I sit down in the last row and look at the first math problem. Oh no, an optimisation problem! How does that work again? I stare at my paper, hoping for a miracle. Two minutes pass by, sweat drops from my forehead on the paper and my head starts spinning. I decide to take a break: I inhale and exhale. One more time, I inhale and exhale. Finally, I remember some math formulas and start working again. I finish the optimisation problem, then two linearisation problems and a derivative problem. Two hours have passed, I have barely made it to the last problem, but I have to hand in my exam. I don’t have a good feeling about half of the problems, but thank god, normal life can continue.
Only three days later, I have to present my finals paper about population growth in Asia. I arrive half an hour early, set up my power point presentation and go through my text in my head for a last time. Philipp and Vincenz are the first ones to enter the room. They wish me luck for the presentation and I smile back at them. Then Professor Schmidt arrives and sits down in the front row. The room gets quiet and I stand in front of a crowd of 30 people, with my legs deeply rooted in the ground, my hands firmly holding my notes, my back upright and my chest out. I start off my presentation at nine o’clock sharp: “Today I will present to you the results of my research…” The next 20 minutes run as planned: “Knowing all these facts is also a curse because I can never see a baby again without thinking: You will have to pay for my rent one day.” The room bursts into laughter and I become even more confident and energised.
Leaving situations to the uncertain as at my math final, is increasing my adrenaline on a level that is counterproductive to my concentration. On the contrary, precisely planning every step of my endeavours as I could do at my final presentation is boosting my self-confidence and energy level. Therefore, I can conclude that I get energized from anticipating a known result rather than if I don’t know what is about to happen next.
Leo's Writing Portfolio 