Magnus Chokus

CHOKE.
That is the one word summary of my board exam.

I'd choose to birth a porcupine or maybe run a marathon in 4 inch high-heeled, thigh-high vinyl hooker boots one size too small, rather than sit for that exam again; which unfortunately, is a very real possibility. Shit, shit, shit.
Things to do differently next time (praying: please, please, PLEASE don't let there be a next time):

1. Don't forget my hairbrush: So I wake up Saturday morning looking like Amy Winehouse less the crackpipe and tattoos, only to discover that I had packed the entire hair salad kit with the notable exception of my brush. or my comb. So I finger combed and used a stylish rubber band and some of H.'s pink plastic barrettes. I'm positive that I accomplished just the sophisticated, intelligent professional look that might win me a point in a crunch.

2. Don't forget my toothbrush: Ratty hair and fuzzy teefs. I was one stanky little package. I did have an eyebrow brush, so my brows at least looked neat and tidy.

3. Don't hack everyones limbs off: There usually are other treatment options. I know them, I know them in inside out, I could recite them standing on my head drunk, I just couldn't recite them during the fucking exam.

4. Don't have a cold: I'm positive that I blew the volume equivalent of my body weight out through my nose. It at least broke up some of the limb carnage. I think the bright red nose and attendant sound effects added a little approachability to my whole hot mess look.

5. Frame Mr. Bunker for some kind of a crime: The more I told him that I was going to want peace and quiet for my non-sequestered hours of the weekend, the more certain he became that this was all one very elaborately planned lover's tryst. I think that if I knew that he was locked behind bars, at least for the weekend, I wouldn't have been worried about him busting into an exam room catching me red handed, mid choke, holding an MRI study or something equally incriminating.

6. Bring smokes: After a crushing first day, I accepted the gracious invitation from a classmate to join him for a smoke outside, which did help my state of mind. This is because after relaxing outside for a few puffs, I developed nausea and a splitting headache which were sufficient in severity to take my mind off the events of the day.

In summary, it was not a good weekend. I could have studied for another month and it wouldn't have made a bit of difference. There was one question to which I truly did not know the answer, otherwise I knew everything, but those idiot examiners just could not read my freakin mind, those assholes.

On the brighter side, I did get to catch up on my gossip and fashion magazine reading during some of the breaks, so I know all about Brittney and Brad and Angelina. While perusing the pages of "In Style", I also noted that I and my women colleagues, few in number though we are, collectively form a massive fashion eyesore.