It’s 2:10am and I’m at the university testing center. They’re going to be closing soon, but I need to take my Algebra exam. I don’t know why I have to take this exam, I just know that I do. I mean, I have a PhD in Mathematics, so how hard can an Algebra exam be?

I ask the man behind the counter — probably a student getting paid for work-study, but it seems like a bit of a late shift for a work-study job — if I can take the exam now. He says that it’s probably not a good idea since once I start I have to finish and if the center closes then my exam is also deemed complete. “But it’s an Algebra exam”, I insist. “I’ll be done in no time.” Then he cites university policy about exam procedures and I have to sign some form attesting that I am taking the exam. I readily do.

By now it’s 2:15am and I’m seated at my table awaiting the materials. The man behind the counter finds the exam and brings it over to me indifferently. I guess he must be tired. I begin to leaf through the papers to get a sense of what has to be done. It’s not bad. Only five pages. I know I have to be speedy. But that’s why I’m taking it so late, it’s the only way it’ll be a challenge. Heck, I’m not even sure when the testing center closes and this makes it more exciting.

The first set of problems look straightforward. Some basic factoring stuff. Easy peasy and I breeze through it. Now the next page looks a little confusing. The first question is “How many iPods?”. What. I don’t know what that means. Must be a typo. I’ll skip it. Ok the next question just looks like a jumble of letters. It doesn’t even look like math. Ok, forget it this whole page looks like the printer threw up or the professor was drunk when he wrote the exam.

Wait a second, I thought this was a five-page exam. Did I miscount the first time? It’s ten pages. It’s 2:25am and I’ve only done one page. I’m the only one here and the lights are turning off. There’s one light directly overhead from me. It’s still on. The third page has no question it simply states “Problem 25”. Something’s not adding up. The first page had five problems on it. The second page didn’t make sense and there were no problem numbers.

I can’t find the fourth page. The fifth page starts with “Problem 12”.

Wait, I thought there were ten pages. There are twenty pages.

The man behind the counter comes in and taps his ruler on my desk — I thought I was at a table. “Time’s up”, he says. Oh.

“But it can’t be. I only got through one page.”
“You were told that we’d be closing soon.”
“But it’s only 2:30am. I didn’t know you’d be closing this soon. I thought you’d close at 3am.”
“Nope, 2:30am.”
“Why didn’t you tell me closing was at 2:30am?”
“You never asked. It’s time to turn in the papers.”
“But I can’t fail this exam. I need to pass it. Can I just have a little more time?”
“No. We’re closing. It’s university policy. You’ll have to work it out with the professor.”

He grabs my papers and sends them to the processing center. I’m pleading with him as he goes back behind the counter.

“Listen, this is an Algebra exam. I have to pass it. It doesn’t make sense that I fail it. In fact, it should be impossible for me to fail it.”

I’m breaking out into a sweat. I can’t believe this is happening. An Algebra exam. How can I fail an Algebra exam? The arrogance.

It’s 3am. I am in a cold sweat. I’m awake. I’m in my bed. Did I just have my first Algebra exam nightmare? I wonder, as I lie in bed, is this happening somewhere right now? Is this dream the total accumulation of my students’ nightmares and anxieties? I have no fear of Algebra or of failing (math) exams. I’ve failed plenty of them with nary a care. Why the nightmare?