Perhaps it was the exhaustion of 2 moves in 5 days, 12+ hours of house-cleaning, and the promise of living out of suitcases for months that stunted my reaction this time around. Or perhaps it was being handed the envelope at 7:30am by Erik, while I still sat groggily in bed. Or maybe I had used up all my jumping up and down jumping up and down excitement with the first Norsk Prøve 3 results, two weeks earlier. Or maybe I was just so convinced I actually would pass that I really wasn't so worried. No. . . definitely not the last one. But when Erik handed me the envelope, which he had fetched from the mailbox around midnight the night before--and wisely opted not to wake me over--I was rather numb.
But I did it. I passed that stinking skriftlig norsk prøve 3-- all three stinking sections: writing of essays, reading comprehension and listening comprehension.
I didn't jump up and down. I didn't whoop. I didn't fist-pump "YES!" like my Norwegian friend did when she heard my news. I think I sighed heavily. Shed a few tears of relief, but didn't really feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.
I know I certainly would have an intense reaction if I had failed. I would have cried--quite hard--knowing I would have to study more, retake the exam, postpone a nursing class, and put my life on hold even further.
But, now I don't. And if I weren't so distracted by suitcases scattered all over, federal taxes that still need to be filed, and the great unknown of architect plans and housing options for August and September, I probably would have jumped up and down.
But I didn't.