The shivers began once I saw the dull gray building approaching my right side in downtown Los Gatos. As the Department of Motor Vehicles sign passed by my passenger side window, I let out a cry for help, my mouth quivering.

In the past three days, I had crammed in my head driving facts, regulations and road signs. For hours a day, reading 25 different practice guides and a read-through of the entire driving handbook had led up to the moment I had been dreading: taking my permit test.  

Palms sweating and breath quickening, I stepped out of my car and began walking to the DMV with all my paperwork. I’vealways been a stressed test taker, but this time, I felt like I was going to pass out from anxiety. I pushed open the door of the DMV to reveal a long, long line.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all work out fine,” my mom said. Little did she know what was about to unfold.

After messing up the DMV forms four times in 10 minutes, whether by spelling street names wrong or signing in the wrong place, we finally completed the form.  

The DMV employees then rushed me from station to station. With each passing minute, the stress mounted. Once I went through the vision test and took a flash-blinding picture, I chose computer No. 7, my lucky number, to take the test.

My hands began shaking as I clicked the start button on the screen. The 46-question test felt interminable, and I was begging for it to end. Each time I got one wrong, I would cry out in frustration, and the other test-takers occupying computers glanced over each time. I tried to keep count of my missed questions, but the number disappeared underneath my sea of stress.

Finally, after answering the last question, a message popped up and indicated I had passed. I cheered and clapped my hands, and I’m pretty sure everyone was staring at me like I was insane.

As the man behind the desk handed me my driver’s permit, I was relieved. I had just accomplished what might be the most stressful task in my life. Then, an unfortunate thought crossed my mind.  This was only the beginning to what would trump that amount of stress in six months: taking my road driving test.

At that, I cringed and walked out of the DMV, feeling successful yet once again terribly nervous.