My Dummy Hand (Part 3).
When we get back into the Great Hall we once again brought out our notes. This time however we only had maybe three pages each after studying so long we were able to condense the information. We went over all three cases and the questions over and over. As we're doing that we both draw our attention to the stairs leading up to the Champlain office. A Trent student was standing there with a bunch of tourists. "And this is what is called the Great Hall and it is one of the many cafs here on campus." She said. I look at the group of potentials with their parents and notice how they are gazing around the room. It can feel pretty timid at first when you walk in because of how high the ceiling is and the medieval look of the place. I remember when I took the tour long long ago when I first arrived on campus during Intro Week. The tourist continued along their way and I finished up studying because so much is riding on this exam; It is the end of all ends.
When we walk towards the gym I start singing "Let's Get It" by P.Diddy. Ever since my first year I use to listen to that song to pump me up before an exam. Of course I only know the chorus off by heart. I keep looking at Vishald's peice of paper before going into the exam trying to remember the details of it. I know I shouldn't, but I keep forgetting it.
We walk into the gym and set our bags and such down. I take our a bunch of pens and my calculator. I know I won't need it for the exam but I keep it there to add up my marks when I take a break from writing. I sit down at a desk and Vishald sits beside me. "Ok everyone," Konopaski says walking to the middle of the gym "You have three hours from now, and remember that if you think you're going to do badly, the sign up sheet for summer school is at the front." Everyone starts laughing. I'm not laughing. "Begin." He says. I look through the booklet before starting right away and looking over the two cases. The one I did is on the exam which is sweet, and the other one is one I kinda looked over but I know it's easy to do. I start on the short answers. Three questions down, that's 12% so far, five done, that's 20%. My hand is getting sore, and as I continue to write it feels like glass is in my veins. I shake it and then stare at the back of my hand, a small blister is forming where the pen rests. Ten questions done, that's 40% right there. I get to question 14 and I don't know the answer. I leave it blank. I finish off the last of the short answer questions and then proceed to the first case study. Writing the case was very tedious because I just wrote it this morning, this time however I had to write it very well. I finish that off then skip the next case and write down the bonus questions as a sort of break. My hand is killing me. I open and close it several times while looking at the palm and nothing I can do can seem to stop it from hurting. I open the last few pages and begin on the last case forcing my hand to write. At this point my penmanship is starting to suffer, words are not coming our right, spelling mistakes scribbled out, and it's starting to look very un-neat overall. As I wrote the very last sentence I pounded the tip of the pen into the page for the period. Got up and handed it in to the front and walked out of the gym. It was over. I continued to try and loosin' up my hand to no avail, but I managed to catch the bus right away and went home.
On the bus someone pulled on my backpack, I look back and a young girl is looking at me, I turn my head around and I hear some laughter. I look back again and see Melissa sitting there. "How's it going Matthieu?"
"Oh going good, how are you?"
"Not too bad just coming back from the library, typing out an essay."
"Cool. I just wrote my first exam."
"How'd that go?"
"My hand is just dummied! But other than that I did well."
She laughed again. We walk down Stewart together and said our goodbyes when we arrived at my house.
It was over. No more accounting. The thorn in my side was ripped out and although I bled on the way back; I felt fucking great.
When we walk towards the gym I start singing "Let's Get It" by P.Diddy. Ever since my first year I use to listen to that song to pump me up before an exam. Of course I only know the chorus off by heart. I keep looking at Vishald's peice of paper before going into the exam trying to remember the details of it. I know I shouldn't, but I keep forgetting it.
We walk into the gym and set our bags and such down. I take our a bunch of pens and my calculator. I know I won't need it for the exam but I keep it there to add up my marks when I take a break from writing. I sit down at a desk and Vishald sits beside me. "Ok everyone," Konopaski says walking to the middle of the gym "You have three hours from now, and remember that if you think you're going to do badly, the sign up sheet for summer school is at the front." Everyone starts laughing. I'm not laughing. "Begin." He says. I look through the booklet before starting right away and looking over the two cases. The one I did is on the exam which is sweet, and the other one is one I kinda looked over but I know it's easy to do. I start on the short answers. Three questions down, that's 12% so far, five done, that's 20%. My hand is getting sore, and as I continue to write it feels like glass is in my veins. I shake it and then stare at the back of my hand, a small blister is forming where the pen rests. Ten questions done, that's 40% right there. I get to question 14 and I don't know the answer. I leave it blank. I finish off the last of the short answer questions and then proceed to the first case study. Writing the case was very tedious because I just wrote it this morning, this time however I had to write it very well. I finish that off then skip the next case and write down the bonus questions as a sort of break. My hand is killing me. I open and close it several times while looking at the palm and nothing I can do can seem to stop it from hurting. I open the last few pages and begin on the last case forcing my hand to write. At this point my penmanship is starting to suffer, words are not coming our right, spelling mistakes scribbled out, and it's starting to look very un-neat overall. As I wrote the very last sentence I pounded the tip of the pen into the page for the period. Got up and handed it in to the front and walked out of the gym. It was over. I continued to try and loosin' up my hand to no avail, but I managed to catch the bus right away and went home.
On the bus someone pulled on my backpack, I look back and a young girl is looking at me, I turn my head around and I hear some laughter. I look back again and see Melissa sitting there. "How's it going Matthieu?"
"Oh going good, how are you?"
"Not too bad just coming back from the library, typing out an essay."
"Cool. I just wrote my first exam."
"How'd that go?"
"My hand is just dummied! But other than that I did well."
She laughed again. We walk down Stewart together and said our goodbyes when we arrived at my house.
It was over. No more accounting. The thorn in my side was ripped out and although I bled on the way back; I felt fucking great.
posted by lionzub at 6:08 PM
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