62.
Nope, that is not the number of children I want to have by the time I’m 30. That’s the score I got for the exam. The one that I failed on Monday morning. Passing mark? A not too distant 70. I needed eight more. A measly eight and I would’ve been a certified CONsultant. Fo sho, as they say. Lady Luck didn’t smile on me. I think she was on leave.
You know what’s worst than failing? Being monstrously hungry and dreadfully sleepy and, of course, failing. To further compound my wretched start to the day, my glasses decided to break while I was midway into the exam. It broke by itself, I swear. I started chuckling. The other people thought I was mad. They probably they thought I was an asshole for disrupting their concentration. I sincerely apologise. After getting over the fact that I didn’t get the highest marks I so dreamt about, and to console myself, I headed for lunch. I had spaghetti Napolitano, which essentially was spaghetti with ugly meatballs and even uglier mixed vegetables. The three sad-looking meatballs were surprisingly all right. They were so hot they burned my tongue. On the way back, the train decided to stop having air-conditioning. Someone’s shoes smelled really bad. I missed the feeder bus by a whisker. I had to wait 45 minutes for the next one in the stifling heat. Someone’s armpits smelled really bad. In the evening, Mother Nature decided to throw in her own brand of misery by turning on the heavenly sprinklers (an awful analogy, I know) just as I was about to go for a jog.
I'm gonna make cellophane tape on glasses sexy.
I can take the studying bit, and really I have no other choice since I’m already in it for life, but it’s the paying-for-the-re-sit that’s a major bummer. It ain’t cheap; it’s someone’s pay and a bit more. Maybe I can get my future employer to pay for it. Or at least subsidise it a little. I’m well worth it. I think.
Anyhow, here’s a big congratulations to the Cookie Man (have a safe journey back to
In hindsight, I think I did the very best I could. As disappointed as I am, honestly, getting a 62 is pretty darn good considering some of the questions just boggled me silly. Better luck the next time, was the invigilator’s words. He’s right. By the time I’m done posting this, I’ll most probably be finally unpacking my bag, sorting out my notes and preparing for the next round, which will be in a month’s time. I hope to get a job as well, hoping that any potential employers wouldn’t mind hiring a hardworking yet still uncertified dude.
In the mean time, I think I’m going for some retail therapy.
This is Chris, signing off.
PS: Never, ever, study at 1 a.m. and then getting up later at 5 a.m. to study again on the day of your exam. It be bad, yo.
10 comments:
Harry Potter fixed his glasses with Spellotape. For us Americans out there, I had to discover that Europeans - and, apparently, Asians - call Scotch tape "cellotape". Now I finally understand why. Thanks, Chris!
That bit about not studying till 1 and then getting up at 5 to study again? Excellent advice, I've always found. Whatever you don't know by the time you go to sleep the night before, you still won't know when you get to the exam, so you might as well get some sleep.
Good luck next month!
Bummer! I'm sorry; I've heard about "The test" and I'm so not envious. Chin up, you'll get it next time. Best wishes!
Live and learn.
Well, at least Karma decided to dump the bad stuff all at once, leaving much room for the good stuff. It's great you're picking yourself up so fast. Good luck for Round 2!
I'm so sorry about your exam. =( And the compounding series of bad happenings.. seems like Lady Luck was on a coffee break instead and let the switch open. =/
It would have been hilarious if you used silver duct tape on your glasses. It would be like nerdy-sexy.. well, at least in my messed-up head it is! =P
Good luck next time! Lady Luck better sign in for her shift this time 'round.
Awwww, poor Chris. Let me pat you on the head and offer you some of my homemade meatballs and spicy garlic bread to go with it.
How good are they? So good that this lady at our homeschool potluck dinner ate half the crockpot that I filled with my meatballs.
Lia: I actually looked up the spelling. For something that is terribly common, I'm pretty sure that not many know how to spell it, regardless of geographical preference.
It was advice I give to my juniors. Looks like senior is senile.
Stepherz: Thanks! :)
Syar: You should have seen my friend. She, too, failed but with a 67. 5 marks more than me and 3 shy of the passing mark. But she was nonchalant as a cucumber on dressing. I think I got that wrong.
Marz: I contemplated asking the invigilator for some cellotape but I was too dumbfounded and tired to. Hot tip: Never buy Adidas frames.
Lady Elastic: You are far too kind to me. Maybe you should open a meatball parlour and sell it by the crockpot. You'd be killer.
Well, I hope you learned a lesson from all this. did I sound like your mom just now?
just tell me to "the title of your post" off
at least cookie is gone, right?
Cool as a cucumber? Was that what you were aiming for? Cause I ain't never heard of nonchalance in a cucumber.
EH! If you got Facebook, add me lah. I don't know your last name and I vaguely know what you look like.
Jean Knee: Cookie Man was nice to me. Well, he was nice to everyone.
Syar: Aight :)
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