I was the driver on the day of the PSAT’s but we all missed the test because I was unable to find the building. Even though it is the only octagon in the county. My own parents didn’t know or care, but my mates were grounded over the debacle, and probably should have extended the lesson since it was the exact same crew in my car when the accident happened.
Without any preparation or interest, I pulled a perfect score on the verbal portion of the SAT’s, then elected to nap through the rest of the test. Why bother to make the attempt, when my college-of-choice didn’t require any particular score? Besides, my elder cousin had aced it without any discernible positive change in his life. Who cares about these things? Not our family, for sure! If memory serves, he ended his young life wandering – schizophrenic, addicted, and homeless. Though that might just be a rumor.
I sat the GRE the day after invasive jaw surgery, high on (and having an allergic reaction to) Percoset. I have no memories of…. any little bit of the whole ordeal, aside from the bloody surgical dressing stuffed down a gaping wound in the back of my mouth.
Today was mild by contrast. I woke up wincing and still sick, but officially no longer contagious. Then I trudged to London, where I shivered with fellow immigrants through the long registration to take the citizenship test. Knowledge required ranged between obvious and esoteric, and I was quite worried.
We were allowed forty-five minutes.
I finished in five, feeling hunted and horrified, arguing in my mind with the phrasing of the questions.
Though I passed.
My kid memorized the answers by rote (for instance, Question 19, answer = D) without engaging with the literature. Her method translated to a perfect score, and she finished first, then stood at the front of the class gossiping with the invigilator.