20 minutes presenting. 30 minutes answering questions. 10 minutes reserved to decide my fate.

That is what is set before me as I look through my notes for this presentation, some of which were typed down no longer than an hour before this moment. Not to say I hadn’t done the research on this, or formed an opinion on the few lines of text within the large book I brought for this moment alone, but even so… I remain nervous.

I know the toll that speaking for so long will exact on my body — I ,who, typically communes through what is written rather than what is spoken. That cost I accept for what awaits me, but it is everything else that makes my time here one that wracks my nerves. Not even counting the terrible toils of the world you might hear about in prior articles, my mind was already abounding with worries and questions. Do I need to bring in questions of my own? How much of my notes should be used as a script or just a guideline? How am I supposed to get back to my apartment without my Student ID? Should I really dress up as a Wizard again for tonight’s Murder Mystery Event (see my last article)?

All in all, I had many worries to go through, and they only compounded as the exam advanced. Did my words come through correctly? Was I speaking well enough? Did I give good answers for their questions? Surprisingly, I made it through the ordeal without falling down in a manner akin to a tragedy’s victim during the third act. I was excused for the time as the two greater minds of the English Lexicon made deliberation upon my efforts. And, in that short time, I too deliberated with myself to ask if I was enough. Was I?

The door back in opens. A verdict has been reached. My fate is decided, and with slight trepidation I hear their final decree…

I passed.

Wohoo!

… Still had to deal with the ID I left in my dirty clothes, again.