Here's a slightly more realistic - slightly less exciting - story for all the students out there:

I Love Exam Modules

I hate exam modules. I sat there, my quantum notes on the bed in front of me, my temper building to a shameful climax. My hand reached out to snatch the words from the paper and throw them on the floor. But just as I was scrunching up a white sheet, the little voice at the back of my mind roused itself, ‘You do that and you’ll regret it. Later, when you’ve cooled off a bit, you’ll want to do some hardcore learning with that.’ My hand relaxed, my temper dipped to see sense and my humour returned enough to appreciate just how smug that little voice was.
I leapt off the bed, arched my back and heard multiple bones crack – wow I’m getting old. I was tired, almost fell asleep at one point, and this led me to second guess my choice of revision spots. No, it’s comfortable, that’s why I chose it in the first place. Maybe one day I’ll upgrade to my desk, or, dare I say it, the library! I chuckled to myself for a moment, no – I liked revising on my bed, music in the background, it wasn’t quite so depressing.
I thought to get a drink, I remembered my old trumpet teacher telling me a drink of water helps to wake you up, so I bounded down the stairs and into the kitchen. Feeling awake again already, I decided to forego the drink and take a walk to buy dinner. Exercise gets the blood pumping, and it’s important to realise when you need a break – too much solid revision can turn your brain to mush, no, seriously, to mush, it’s not pretty, kind of like strawberry angel delight. Anyway, a short break (I almost found myself wishing for another subject to revise for, the age-withered maxim ‘a change is as good as a rest’ having been ground into me from a disturbingly young age), then back to it later.

As the cool January air refreshed my lungs and I walked a little easier, I saw Claire coming the other way so I waved and walked over, pleased to have some sort of human contact before the day’s end.
‘Hey Claire,’ I said tentatively, thinking she looked a bit more than a little stressed.
‘Argh, I’m soo stressed,’ she replied, her hands moving in exasperated motions – flapping, if you will. I smiled (inwardly – I’m no fool).
‘You got an exam coming up?’ I asked.
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, me too. You ready for it?’
‘No,’ she started flapping again, ‘I’ll be up all night revising.’
‘All night?’ I asked, shocked.
‘Yeah, I can never sleep before an exam.’
‘I’m appalled,’ I replied, a light tone edging its way in, ‘they say a good sleep is best before an exam, but if that works for you…’
‘That’s just the way I do it,’ she smiled, ‘and I’m about to buy some sugary goodness to keep my hunger at bay.’
‘Fair enough. Well, good luck with it, and I’ll probably see you later.’
‘Yeah,’ she said, moving off, ‘good luck with yours too.’
‘Thanks.’ As I continued on, I thought about how people differ in their revision techniques, and that once you’ve got something that works for you, you should probably stick to it. I mumbled to myself: ‘Chicken stir fry tonight, methinks.’

The next morning I awoke with my alarm, an unsettling feeling made my heart beat in funny patterns and I remembered… it’s today. I got up and showered, having left plenty of time so as not to rush, then made my way downstairs to breakfast. None of this glass of water and out the door nonsense, I thought to myself, but something that will stop my somewhat abused stomach from rebelling in the cruelest of ways – growling in the middle of an exam. I shuddered.
Tucking in, I looked over my revision notes (lectures rewritten, reworded and basically chopped down to the fewest number of pages possible) and brought the important-to-memorise points to the fore of my mind. Ever since A-level, people with more experience than me, which tends to make them worthy of listening to, have said you should have all your revision done in advance and, more usefully, that you should only revise the key points the night before.
Now, personally, I like to do the key points on the day of the exam, just to get my focus back onto physics after a good nights sleep… my thoughts trailed off as I remembered Claire. I said a quick prayer for us both and anyone else with an exam that day as I washed up, and checking the contents of my pencil case one last time I told my heart to beat sensibly. It didn’t listen.

I got to the exam early, my revision notes scrunched in a white-knuckled grip. People started milling and I relaxed a little when someone from my class turned up, a similar clasp on his spider-diagram style notes. We exchanged pleasantries, as one is prone to do at such high-tension events, and tried to laugh off the importance of our degrees. It was hardly the inspirational pep talk I needed but it made me feel better, if only to realise I wasn’t alone in feeling a bit unprepared.

We made our way into the hall.

Another quick prayer – Your will be done – that made me feel okay, it reminded me that, contrary to how I may feel, exams are hardly the most important things in life.

Coats at the back of the hall, the revision notes pointedly left in one of the pockets.

I tried to warm up my hands in preparation for speedwriting as I sat down, then we filled out the registration slips and, just like that, it began.

I took thirty seconds to calm myself, thirty seconds that I would no doubt need by the end of the exam, but it was a necessary sacrifice to get me started. I read every question, I answered every question (I cannot stand to leave a question unanswered, even if I know I’m wrong – I might pick up marks somehow) and I waffled in fair proportion.

And then it was over, and we left, and we discussed, and everything flew by in that strangely dazed, post exam feeling. I got home and collapsed on the comfy sofa, everything I had learned from the past twelve weeks slowly oozing its way out of my brain. Then, finally, as the puddle of formulae on the floor evaporated from my thoughts, I smiled.

It’s time to party…