GREat.

So, I took the GRE Saturday.

I probably should have studied, but now that I'm not in the routine of studying habitually, I've kind of forgotten how. If I'm going to be totally honest, as an English major I never really had to study a lot to begin with. Instead of memorizing formulas and practicing problems, I basically just read and wrote all the time. So why, I thought to myself, would I start studying now for this test that I'm only taking to get into school to read and write some more? You don't have to know the Pythagorean theory to analyze Shakespeare, and you certainly don't need to know how to solve for * if x*y= 1/2x + y-4 when (-3) (1/2) * (*) (28%^&$) + * (@3786!#$) in order to be a decent writer!

Besides, when I got home from school every day, the last thing I'd want to do was open up a GRE study book and do math problems. I'm going to be real honest with you. It's a struggle for me to even long divide. The rules for cross-multiplying escaped me right about the time I got my braces off. Math has never been my thang.

Which is unfortunate, because the test I took yesterday contained a whole lot of it. I might as well have been reading Chinese for the quantitative portion, and let's just say that when I received my scores, I drove home feeling like an idiot.

This may sound presumptuous (GRE word), but if you're talking about school smarts, I'm not used to feeling like an idiot (by all other accounts, I feel like an idiot multiple times per day). I graduated with a 3.9, was a member of several meaningless honors programs, was usually in the top whatever percent from elementary school through college, etc. etc. I know I'm not Harvard material, but I guess up until yesterday, I thought I was intelligent compared to the average joe.

Apparently, I'm not.

Here's how it went down. I got to the testing place and stood in the line to get signed in. First of all, if our airports had half the security this place had, Osama and all his homies would turn in their resignation letters now. Before I'd even gotten my bearings, I had to sign in and basically copy an entire canon (GRE word meaning "set of sacred rules") in cursive. You know, so they could compare it to my driver's license signature. There are a lot of people out there who pretend they're me, and you can never be too careful.

Yes, I promise I'm not going to leave here and tell everybody the questions on this test. It's going to be really tempting to bring up in casual conversation or as an icebreaker in awkward social situations, but I'll refrain. I also swear I'm the same blonde who's smiling at you from the driver's license you are so carefully studying with your black light. And FINE, I won't leave here and immediately write down everything I remember from the exam and mass produce it for profit. Not gonna lie, that one WOULD be difficult for me but luckily for you I don't remember what I had for breakfast, much less have the capability to recall those word problems once they're not in front of my face.

After I'd crossed-my-heart-hope-to-die'd and been affirmed as the real Slim Shady, I was passed on to the SECURE AREA where I had to turn over all my worldly possessions to a large black man. He asked me to turn my pockets inside out, turn around and do the same with my back pockets, then hand over my jacket and watch. I began to nervously wonder what underwear I had on just in case they required a strip search. He took my picture and motioned me over to the HERE'S-WHERE-YOU-SIT-IDLY-FOR-TEN-MINUTES-SO-YOU-CAN-GET-EXTRA-EXTRA-NERVOUS-WAITING-AREA. This is where I really began to question my ability to perform well on the test. I looked around the room to size up the people who would be testing with me. Hopefully I could make myself feel better by judging their intelligence.

The woman seated to my right had to weigh at least 350 pounds. She was wearing baggy jeans and breathing heavily. She had a grease stain on the front of her shirt. Obese people with grease stains on their clothes are probably not as smart as I am.

Another woman was being photographed now. She had on a black windsuit circa 1992. Her hair was pulled back into a plastic claw. People who wear windsuits and clippies in their hair are probably not as smart as I. She probably didn't study either because she likes to spend her time jogging in brisk weather.

An Indian man smelling of musky cumin sat two seats over to my left. Shit. Indian people are really smart.

A girl younger than I was sitting across the room, hair in a messy bun. She had on sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. She was carrying a cheesy canvas bag with her sorority letters on it. No way she's as smart as I am. She's probably still hungover from that kegger. Yup. That's why she didn't bother to put on real clothes or brush her hair. At least I'm going to do better than she is.

I began to wonder what these same people were thinking about me. I could hear it all too clearly. That girl MUST be an idiot. She probably spent more time this morning getting dressed and ready to get here than she did preparing for the test. Where does she think she is with those boots and that dress? Look at her, biting her nails and nervously scanning the room! Did she really write down the website directions telling you where to go once you got in the building?? HA! HA! HA! Good luck, sweetie. You're going to need it.

By the time I got to my cubicle I was "sweating bullets," to use a hackneyed phrase (GRE word meaning "overused, stale"), I had completely psyched myself out. Even the verbal section, which I'd assumed I'd do well on, completely caught me off guard. I stared at the little countdown clock in the corner and watched the seconds tick away instead of answering the prompt on the screen.

Most of my allotted time for the first essay was spent trying to remember how to formulate a coherent topic sentence. 15:49, 15:48, 15:47...the seconds blinked in unison with the cursor on the blank page. GET A GRIP, K!!! YOU DO THIS ALL THE TIME! YOU LOVE TO WRITE!! YOU ARE PRETTY GOOD AT IT!!

15:35, 15:34...

Or maybe you aren't....

14:59, 14:58...

Nope. You're definitely not.

2:20, 2:19, 2:18

Oh my gosh! I forgot that I'm on surveillance right now!! I probably looked really dumb when I started chewing my hair and slapping my face with the scratch paper.

:05, :04, :03, :02, :01

When I finally finished the test and received my score, tiny tears pricked in the corners of my eyes. I'm not sure if it was because of the number I saw or out of relief that I was actually done.

Well, if grad school doesn't work out I can always teach a third year at RMS. NOT!