Testing My Patience...

As some of my faithful readers may or may not have known, over the past few months I have been studying for the GMAT in order to potentially "turn back the clock" and assume the role of a fulltime student once again. After endless hours of studying, taking numerous seemingly worthless 3 hour courses, and choosing "c" on multiple choice-driven practice answers based solely upon the fact that it's my favorite letter between A-E, I finally took the test last Saturday. However, as is typical with stories involving me, it wasn't so cut-and-dry. Here's the story of why I almost MISSED the GMAT (via timestamp). Enjoy.

9:00-11:15 AM Wake up bright and early (for me) and do a little last-minute cramming while treating myself to a little Sportscenter (it had been a looong time) and some freshly cut pineapple.

11:15-11:30 AM Shower, brush teeth, boring. While in shower, I decide that since it's SO hot outside (about 95 degrees with extremely high humidity), I will ride my bicycle to my 12:30 PM test. This way, I believe I will not only spend less time in the summer heat, but I may even catch a breeze to cool me down a bit.

11:45 AM After "Drooke Dreltzman,"* my roommate/girlfriend leaves the apartment to head out to lunch with a friend, I play with the dog we are dogsitting in an attempt to relax and achieve a zen-like approach to the test.

11:50 AM As I was told numerous times to arrive at the testing center 30 minutes early, I head out to the backyard to hop on my bike and prepare for my 3 min ride to the testing center.

11:51 AM While in the backyard, quickly realize that I forgot the key to open the door to the gate in my backyard "terrace." I head back to the backdoor to retrieve the key.

11:52 AM While trying to open the backdoor, I suddenly realize that I don't have a key to the backdoor either. At this point, I become aware of the fact that I am trapped in my own backyard....

11:53 AM In the midst of sweat beginning to pool onto my forehead, I begin making phone calls to everyone I know within a half-mile radius of my apartment. This includes Drooke Dreltman (8-12 times, depending on if you include hangups), "Flon Flyder," "Reg Roucher," "Krate Kroucher," and my landlord, "Greff" a few times. Pacing is involved, as are questions of how I may be able to hop a 10 foot fence (or dig under said fence) in order to create an escape route.

12:10 PM Resigned with the fact that (I had already gone through each of the stages of loss, including denial, anger, and sadness) I would be missing the GMAT test, I attempt to come up with an answer to the question "Why didn't you take the GMAT today," because I know that "I decided to lock myself in my own backyard terrace" was not really gonna work. My final resolution? Just don't say anything...

12:20 PM SUCCESS! "Greff," my landlord, listened to his voicemail and comes home and unlocks the back door, freeing me from my makeshift holding cell. I run up through the house (patting the dog's head for good luck), head outside, and begin my sprint up Berkeley Street to the testing center...in my flip flops...in 95 degree heat.

12:26 PM I arrive at the test center with 4 minutes to spare!! Unfortunately, my clothes have taken a turn for the worse. My shirt is entirely soiled with sweat, rivaling that of Kevin Youkilis in a day game, I'm dripping sweat onto the paperwork which needs to be signed beforehand to verify my identity, and I'm panting much like the dog I'm sitting had been all day earlier, all direct effects of my flip-flop sprint in 90+ degree heat. The employee at the testing center takes one look at me, shakes her head, and says "I don't even wanna know....".

All in all, the test went generally how I expected it would go. My score was expected, and not great by any means (barely qualifying as "good"), but at least I surpassed my own expectations a bit. Not that I believe my score would have improved, but sweating profusely, tardiness, and borderline physical exhaustion aren't exactly at the tip of anyone's tongue when the phrase "ideal testing conditions" comes to mind.

Just another Saturday, I guess....

* Note: all names have been changed to protect the identities of the persons involved in this story.

Lessons I missed in 6th Grade

Generally, I like to think of myself as a pretty smart guy - I speak a foreign language (arguably), I know when the correct time is to use "who" or "whom," I know the Spanish Armada occurred in 1588, I can point out the province of Manitoba on a map.....the list is endless, readers.

That being said, there are 2 things which must have slighted me in my youth, and they continue to be problematic in my "professional" years:

1. Cursive script

2. The ampersand (&)

Let's begin with cursive. I have a slight recognition of taking classes in cursive, and although I was clearly not bound for a career in calligraphy, I could at least write it. Now it has gotten to
the point where any knowledge I had of it has been completely erased from my memory, just like "Saved By the Bell: The College Years." This culminated about 5 years ago, when I was taking the LSAT. After the test, you are required to copy a paragraph stating you didn't cheat, ect. - in cursive. What did I do, you ask? I CHEATED. I copied it in regular print and attempted to turn it in. The important word here being "attempted.". That's right - the proxy handed it back to me, informing me it must be done in cursive. Humiliated in front of a classroom of people I didn't even know, I sauntered back to my chair and attempted to use cursive for a full paragraph. Even though I improvised very liberally, this small feat took me nearly 10 minutes, and I felt exhausted at the end. Anyone who knows me is fairly aware of the fact that to this day, I can barely even sign my own name in cursive, let alone write a sentence. This, friends, is embarrassing on so many levels.

Now, gracefully moving on to the ampersand. I'm afraid there's not all too much that can be said here. Bottom line - for the life of me, I cannot draw an ampersand. Is this something one is taught in school? If so, I must have missed that class. Perhaps the ampersand is a close relative of cursive? It wouldn't surprise me at all....that nemesis.

Yesterday, I was attempting to write down the name of a company, which, sure enough, had an "&" in the name. You know exactly where this is going...I couldn't do it. I tried over and over again, looking at the damn ampersand, tracing its lines and everything, and still couldn't figure it out. Defeated, humiliated by my own actions, and somewhat enraged, I went with a "+".

I'll tell you this - I hope I'm never in a hostage situation where I am forced to write down the name of my fellow hostages (using only ampersands), and if I don't do it correctly, our captor has threatened that all the hostages will die. If this ever occurs, I apologize in advance, and I promise I'll see you on the other side.