Eight Days of milking those exams for all they're worth...

Well, well, well...and so it is.

("...just like you said it would be
life goes easy on me, most of the time
and so it is, the shorter story
no love, no glory...") -- damien rice, 'the blower's daughter'

That's not a bad song to get in one's head. So, I have taken my Contracts final. I'm actually a little scared to blog about it for fear the powers that be will catch me revealing some information I'm not supposed to reveal. There are many, many systems in place to prevent cheating. And we're -- obviously -- not supposed to talk about the exam with anyone who hasn't taken the exam. And while all of us first-year day students took our Contracts exam at the same time, this morning, in various rooms throughout the law school, the evening students take theirs tonight. I'm pretty sure my prof doesn't teach the evening section, and that he'd write different exams even if he did, but maybe not. Who knows?

At any rate, I will tell you about the experience.

First, the aforementioned policies to combat cheating include us not knowing where our final will be held until the morning of. There are monitors throughout the law school that display informative messages for us all the time (such-and-such organization is sponsoring a dance/coat drive/lecture this Wednesday...etc.) and this morning we looked to them for room assignments. One classmate friend joked, what is this, Grand Central Station? Indeed.

Most of the first-years (I've heard 85% and I've heard 90%) elected to take their exams on their computers, but I was among the few, the proud, the handwriters. The computer-takers and the handwriters are segregated. That's because the computer takers are complicated--specially installed software, I think disabled hard drives, disabled spell check...etc. There were eight of us hand writing from my Contracts class, a class of a hundred and something. I've tried to count, but you never really knew how many people were ditching that class. Anyhoo, I brought lots of pens and pencils and I was content. Our professors don't administer the exam. Proctors do, like at the SAT or LSAT or whatever. Typical Long Island middle-aged Jewish ladies ran mine.

Another way to combat cheating is you have to sign out when you leave the room. And only one boy/girl allowed to the restroom at a time. And, take the "restroom pass"--how awesome is that! A hall pass! There was even one blue, and one pink. And, the bathrooms near classrooms are for exam takers only and off limits to others during tests; anyone else must use the ones in the law school library downstairs.

Also, let me just state that last night I COULD NOT SLEEP. Major major UGH. I went to bed so early. Obnoxiously early. I am a firm believer in the theory that getting sleep the night before is of infinitely more value than staying up late to cram the night before. But the little insomnia demons came a-callin' and I in fact did not sleep between 7 p.m. and midnight. I have dealt with insomnia before, so I know all the little tricks, but I frankly just found it irritating. Because I am not the kind of insomniac who can't sleep all night; I'm the kind who can't fall asleep until 5 a.m. or something and then does, and then wants to stay asleep a normal amount of time. (I only had one night ever where I couldn't fall asleep all night. I'll tell that story some other time.) When I did sleep, I didn't even dream about the Contracts final. I had a dream about the Criminal Law final this Friday.

Kudos to Jenn for helping me out by texting me as she studied for her Finance final, like "Here is a sleep inducing thought to ponder: Explain why modified duration is a better measure than maturity when calculating the bond's sensitivity to changes in interest..." And big thanks to all my wake-up callers! I love you! (And I would not be opposed to a repeat peformance this Friday...and next Monday...and Wednesday...you know, if you're bored around 7 a.m. EST...)

Is it pathetic to ask for wake-up calls? I don't think so. Hotels do them. Hell, in Massachusetts my home phone's voice mail (courtesy of Verizon) had a wake-up call option. My Hofstra voice mail does not, alas. But I have good friends. : ) And I'm not actually bothered by asking for help when I might need it. How very Artist's Way of me!

Too funny, just as I typed that, Damien Rice, to whom I am now listening since thinking about his lyrics above, sang in my headphones, "And we always seem to need the help of someone else..."

However, I did wake up and all was well and I ate an orange (hi mom!) and strolled over to Dunkin' Donuts to get some coffee, and then calmly walked into the law school building around 8:08 a.m. for the 8:30 a.m. final, all nightmares about sleeping through it null and void. I was singing a little song to myself (another Artist's Way habit-come-lately of mine) as I walked across campus and the frantic girl behind me who just emanated stress vibes as she passed me and entered the law school didn't seem too impressed. I only sing very softly to myself when I act all inner-artist-good-mood-like. I don't bother anybody. Today I was singing Jess Klein's "Little White Dove" because this morning I made my usual stroll to the end of the hallway upon leaving my residence, and I stood at the big picture window looking out from my 4th floor before going down the stairs, which is my morning ritual, and I saw a white bird flying smoothly over the treetops, and it put the song in my head.

"My love, my love, all that noise is a little white dove,
in my pocket, in my pocket, take it from me
Otherwise I'm gonna set that little dove free...."

I suppose some of you might be wondering how the actual test went. Like, did I know all the answers? Was it awful? Was it as excruciating as the Contracts class I've loathed all semester? Was it instead a snap?

No, no, no, and no!

Next is Criminal Law this Friday.

I think a lunch of Mexican food is in order for celebration purposes!