Last week was my first test week of lukio. For those unfamiliar with this concept, it is basically a week at the end of each of the five periods into which to school year is divided into, during which we have no regular school. Instead, every day we have a test for one of the courses we took during the period. While it may sound like a nice holiday (as for some it was), it is rather stressful. I still think the pros outweigh the cons, and I consider it better to have one stressful week and then be done with it, rather than a spattering of tests through several weeks.

My first test was on Monday, history. Revision for this had occupied me for most of the already busy weekend (brother's birthday), but it was good to get one of the hardest tests out of the way. The test was predictably uneventful, except for one boy who wished to argue with the teacher about the possibility that he *might* feel the need to go to the toilet in the middle of the test.

Tuesday was my day of reckoning, the French test. In an effort to make the most of my memory, I decided to expose myself to stimuli similar to  one which often accompanies me while studying; a memory technique which should in theory allow me to associate the stimuli with the information I learned. The stimuli was of course tea (Earl Grey, none of that Irish Breakfast crap). It did have a somewhat comical effect when I pulled out my thermos, poured myself a cup of hot water, and casualy produced a tea bag from my coat pocket. Perhaps it helped, as the test went very well, except for a single excercise which left me slightly confused.

Wednessday was English test day, a test I had prepeared for quite minimally due to it being one of the easier tests. Nevertheless my meagre preparations were quite useful for one of the harder questions, which went something like this: "6. Talking about the future. Fill in the correct form of the verb in brackets, if more than one form is suitable, explain the difference in meaning." I found this question taking up most of my time, and I was one of the last to leave. After some discussion with classmates I found many had answered very minimaly to the question, while some had missed the second part completely! The only other dubious question was one which required you to fill in the blanks with odd sayings, with the  first and last letters given to us. I'm glad I had paid attention during class, otherwise I would have never guessed to fill in "Bob has been arguing with his mother lately, do you think it's serious? No, just a s___m in a t_____p." with "storm in a teacup."

Thursday was the psychology test, a test which I thought went especially well, which is unusual as I had no such confidence during the other tests. I was also quite pleased by my method of revision. For some reason I had found paying attention during lessons quite challanging, so I had a lot to catch up on. Somehow I found revision far more interesting, and sucked up the information pretty well. I also did well to not revise in detail the whole test area, which was massive, but go through the introductions and summaries.

Friday was doomsday. Friday was the day of the Finnish test. My Finnish writing is notoriously full of grammatical mistakes, and the two essays I barely managed to write during the four hour test were probably no different. Although I did manage to go through the essays once, I didn't find many mistakes. While to some this may seem a reassuring indication of a lack of mistakes, to me it was clear I was just unable to find them.

The whole test was quite stressful. The four hours we had for the test would probably be comforting to some, knowing they would not have to hurry. To me, it meant a huge, looming pile of work. Not to mention the simple, unpleasant prospect of four hours doing a Finnish test, with no means of escape. This was made ever worse by the fact that I forgot to bring tea, and had the foul aftertaste of my breakfast milk lingering for hours. I should have bought an energy drink, an option I realised too late. So there I was, a nervous wreck looking forward to the prospect of a four hour Finnish test with the aftertaste of sour milk in my mouth, mocked by those who had food or drink, gleefully opening their cans of the finest artificial caffeineed liquid.

Not one to be defeated by a mere Finnish test, I ploughed on. After the first essay I ran out of steam and had a nervous fit featuring much scratching of my head and chewing of my pencil. I regrouped my braincells and prepeared to go down fighting. Alas, it seems to be a stalemate, the deathblow scheduled for the 15th, otherwise known as the day of a thousand sorrows... or officialy, test returning day.