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Friday September 20, 2002

Atomic (exam) bomb

Test anxiety has ruined my future as a psychologist. Well, maybe not my future, but at least my goal of getting straight A's in all of my psych classes. My Psych of Learning test this morning has so discouraged me.

I bombed. The test consisted of six essay questions that we answered using those damn little blue books that gives college students across the country panic attacks. When my prof handed out the test paper, I must have stared at it for at least five minutes, reading and rereading the questions. I knew I'd be one of the last students left there, still writing. The first few questions I managed to get through despite the cramps that seized my right hand (two hours later it's still shaped as if holding a pen). But the fifth question got me. I skipped to question #6, and then came back after finishing, but by that point the class period had already ended, and I really had no clue what the hell the answer was. I just didn't want to write anymore.

I handed it in, smiled at my prof, and walked out. And I wasn't halfway to my dorm before I figured out the answer --I just misunderstood the question. So I stood there, in the rec center parking lot, and released an expletive that made bystanders stare.

I knew the answer. And it was the easiest question on the test. Dammit.