I took it last Wednesday. The few days leading up to the test found me anxious and not optimistic. Not at all. I was fretting, eating badly, worn out, not sleeping, crabby crabby crabby!
I went into class with my one page of allowed notes (one side) that I had created in 6-point type. Hey! It's fair!
We had two hours. The kid in front of me finished in about 20 minutes, packed up his backpack, and left. Oh dear!
It took me nearly the entire two hours. Why am I so nervous? What's going to happen to me? Am I going to be swept up by the dumb-police and carted off to dumbass jail? No? Maybe?
As I hand my test paper to my instructor I say,
"Well, that was a blast."
Without blinking an eye, he looks me up and down and says,
I fear he doesn't have much faith in me either.
So today when I got to class Mr. Warm & Fuzzy told us to come up front and pick up our papers.
Mine said 91.
I shut my eyes. That couldn't be right.
I looked again. Yep, it still said 91.
I immediately texted anyone who would care to know. I felt light as a feather, smart as a whip, happy as a clam!
Get out of the way dumbass school - you'll have to find someone else to warm that bench.