So, for the sake of completeness, here is a wrap-up of the multi-state day of the bar exam.
Again, my deep gratitude for those Kossacks who have had kind words of advice and who have offered encouragement.
Okay, hold your breath and take the plunge!
It's 5 am. I'm awake. The sky is gray through my skylight. I consider trying to go back to sleep. A few minutes later and I know it's useless.
I get out of bed and turn off the alarm clock. It was set to go off at 6:30, but there's no need for that now. I poke around online, trying to get rid of the fogginess of sleep. Not much success. My eyes have that "rolled-in-sand" feeling.
It's 8:30 am. I'm showered and dressed and on the way to the Javitts Center. In the few minutes it takes for me to walk there from my apartment, I manage to smoke three cigarettes and drink half a bottle of Diet Cherry-Vanilla Dr. Pepper. Caffiene and nicotine, parts of this complete breakfast.
I've arrived at the Javitts Center. Outside, I chat with friends from law school. They all have this glazed sort of look. It's alright, though, because I know I look like that, too. We all do. The "Thousand-Question Stare."
It's 8:45 am. The excessively loud recording of the "oral instructions" is playing. It warns me that the MBE is copyrighted. Dire things could happen if I disclose any of the questions on the exam to anyone during or after the examination. Civil liability. Criminal penalties. Possible denial of my application for admission to the bar on character and fitness grounds. Possible disbarment if I am admitted to practice and it is later discovered I disclosed questions. I think they threaten my mother, too, but I'm not sure.
9:00 am. The exam begins.
11:44 am. I'm done with the morning session. Strangely, as I leave, I have little or no recollection of the test. Did the proctors give me some sort of amnesia injection to keep me from disclosing MBE questions?
12 pm. I'm outside. God, it's hot out. Really hot out. Whatever. I chat with friends. I smoke more. I buy more cigarettes and another soda. Must. Make it. Through.
1:15 pm. The instructions again. Forecasts of doom if I disclose any questions. Civil Liability, Criminal Penalities, Denial of Admission, Disbarment, Plague of Locusts, etc. The recording has been repeated so many times, I almost want to sing along.
1:30 pm. The afternoon session has begun.
Sometime between 1:30 and 4:15. I'm in full cruise control. Discovering primary issues, ruling out clearly wrong answers. I have a down-right groove going. Suddenly, I stop. Jesus, I have put "A" down a lot as an answer. "A" can't possibly be the answer to ALL of those questions can it? Better count them. Hmm. Well, doesn't seem like that many when you count them . . . still, all in a row like that? Jesus.
It's 4:15 pm. I'm done. I'm VERY done. Unfortunately, exam policy states that during the last 15 minutes of the exam, no one can leave. I double-check some answers I'm a little unsure of. That only takes five minutes. Screw it. I close my eyes and wait.
It's 4:30 pm. It's over. They've given me my exit ticket. It's a little piece of paper that tells the security guards at the door that my exam has been collected. It's my ticket to freedom. I love my exit ticket. My exit ticket loves me. I briefly consider dumping my boyfriend and marrying the exit ticket. But I know, though our passion is white-hot right now, it simply is not meant to be. They will take the exit ticket from me at the door. I will never see the exit ticket again. Best not to get too committed. Just another summer romance. Somewhere in the back of my mind, "Summer Lovin'" from "Grease" plays.
It's 5 pm. I'm home. It's over. I poke around online for a few minutes, trying to decide what to do tonight. I consider going out. A few minutes later and I know it's useless. I crash and am out like a light.