Wednesday, May 7, 2014


I'll be frank. I detest exams. Give me  15 page paper no problem, but I see the word exam and I can already feel the anxiety. Yes I know they are part of the whole education experience, but its an experience I could live without.

Still I knew it had to come, the final exam time. I sat there over the weekend studying, thinking please Lord, just let me pass. Let me do a hell of a lot better on the final than I did on the midterm-which we won't even get into because yeah, that went oh so wonderfully. I can't say I was fully ready to take the exam yesterday afternoon, but then again I don't think I am ever quite ready no matter how much I study. I will admit this, I could have studied harder. I probably even studied a lot harder for the midterm. But I felt OK about it, I knew I could relate to a lot of the material on a personal level, giving me an advantage on that aspect.

The exam was over within 40 minutes.I walked out feeling OK sure there were questions I didn't know, or guessed on. But I didn't feel like I failed it either, and isn't that a good thing. I came home, ignoring the books and the notes. I am one of these after its done, its done why go back and agonize over the ones you know you missed.

But curiosity kills the cat. And so I decided to take a peek later last night to see if by any chance she had graded it. And wouldn't you know she had.

I stared at the big fat B on the exam and rejoiced.

I did it. I passed.
And it felt pretty damn good.

Maybe the whole exam taking isn't so bad after all.

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