The first time I’ve virtually gone mad A circumspect unnerved nine-grader called Ann(btw it’s me, hi there) woke up early(too early I should say) at night, lied several hours in the bed, scrutinizing the dark ceiling. It was the first time I’ve ever taken a significant olympiad. After the alarm’s ring I got up, got ready as quickly as possible, and went straight to one of the Moscow schools, the place where I had to take it. Nothing really weird should have happened for I had been swotting up on that olympiad(it was NOT a nightmare, I was eager to do it) for months. But… The way it actually turned out became somewhat traumatic experience for me. I’ve got a vivid recollection of the arts’ history classroom, a bunch of other students(most of them wearing shirts and glasses), my chocolate bar and coffee mug on the desk, and… The tasks!! As I opened it, EVERYTHING I learned before vanished into thin air, I thought:”It is not, NOT the things I’ve been preparing to!!”. The pens were squeaking, those focused smarties were leafing through one page, two pages…And there was me, who desperately tried to concentrate and not to go mad looking at the clock. I remember that I got relieved when I’ve solved(or kinda sloved) several problems. However, the moment I left the classroom I recalled just ALL THE THINGS I’d done wrong, the ones I’d forgotten to mention, the tasks where I’d made typos, etc. I felt distraught , remorseful and hysterical as if it’d been the end of the world(btw the tasks were really hard that year, I wasn’t the only one being overawed). All in all, ironically, I somehow became the prizer of that olympiad.