Super nerdy, caffiene-fuelled post to the right, FYI.

Midterms in high school were no big deal. I remember barely cracking open my calculus notebook in grade 12 and still knowing every answer on the October exam. I remember feeling ‘just okay’ about my Biology 12 midterm, only for some loser to call in a bomb threat to my school that day and for the test to be cancelled (not kidding). I don’t remember taking midterms for any other courses in high school, because really, marks back then were determined mostly by homework assignments and other small-scale assessments. Exams happened only in January and June, and that was all fine — because here’s a confession, kind of: I loved high school finals. I liked vague questions that relied on overall understanding rather than close inspection of the details. I thought synthesis questions were cool. I loved rolling my shoulders back on the way out of the exam room and realizing that my fate was in someone else’s hands, and as unsettling as that was, it meant no more work — at least not on my part anymore. 

Here’s the thing: university, so far, has been an entirely different beast. Case in point? It’s just past midnight on Saturday and I’m at home, two doors down from my parents, doing a PHYS 100 reading that isn’t due for another two days. Why? Because in three days, on my eighteenth birthday, I have two midterms, a chemistry quiz, a physics lab, a worksheet to hand in and not one party to attend.

So, so stoked. Considering nothing particularly traumatic has really ever happened to me, I’m convinced this is my rite of passage to adulthood, and all I have to do is not fail. And while once a upon time that would’ve been a laughable goal, I can’t help but stare into the empty pages of my BIOL 112 notebook and wonder what the hell I’ve been doing for the past three weeks, because understanding was not it. I wish I could go back to high school and relearn the entire polarity unit of Chemistry 11 — my life would be a lot easier now if I’d actually paid attention then. 

Note my complete lack of stress over my other exam, MATH 102. It’s because calculus happens to be the exact opposite case — I remember everything I learned in Calculus 12, meaning this upcoming midterm covers only material I already know. Everyone says math exams are brutal, but I’m feeling weirdly confident about this one. We’ll see how that goes. 

I guess the point I’m trying to make is that retention is everything. I mean, duh, yeah, obviously. Maybe I’m late to the party but this idea has seriously never occurred to me until now. Maybe it’s because of the way high school works. You learn about plants and microorganisms in Biology 11, and humans in Biology 12. You learn about electricity in grade 9, only to never touch that aspect of physics again. You completely relearn how to write essays every year unless you get the same English teacher twice, in which case you just apply the same methods to slightly more difficult readings. I think there’s a huge disconnect between grade 9 and grade 10, 10 and 11, and 11 and 12 and so I’ve never felt the need to actually retain any of the knowledge I attain each year. I can honestly say I’ve never experienced any sort of continuity in my education, and the only reason I remember a thing about calculus is because it was my favourite subject — don’t judge.

There’s a good chance this is all my fault, though, I mean. Maybe instead of cramming for that chemistry final two years ago, I should’ve taken the time to internalize the material — maybe then I’d actually remember some of it now. The blame game’s always fun to play, though. And you know what else sounds fun? No, not stabbing myself in the face with a fork. I’m talking about procrastinating, which I’ve done enough of for today. It’s 1 a.m., which makes it thirteen hours since I last studied and 89 hours until my first midterm. Oops. Off to bed.