somnelent but arousable
Today I almost did something I haven't done since high school--I almost slept through an exam. I had my Neurology shelf exam this afternoon, and beforehand, I stopped by my room, ostensibly to do a little last minute studying. But what actually ended up happening was that I fell asleep. I thought I had it all under control, I set my alarm and everything like that (though I guess setting my alarm blows my story that I fell asleep accidentally), but somehow...
(Phone ringing)
MICHELLE (Groggy, lunging for the phone) Hello?
JOE Are you coming to the exam?
MICHELLE (Annoyed, rubbing eyes) Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Why, where are you now?
JOE I'm in the exam room.
MICHELLE You're there early.
JOE What are you talking about?
MICHELLE You're there ten minutes early.
JOE Honey, he's handing out the exams right now.
MICHELLE (Checking the clock) Oh shit!
(Hangs up, reenacts the scene from "The Graduate" when Dusting Hoffman is running to the church after his car breaks down.)
It was OK, though. The course director is this really mild, nice guy, and as I was leaving the test room, he kind of smiled and said, "last one to start the exam, first one to finish, huh?" (Actually, I was the fourth one to finish, but whatever.)
The aforementioned last time I slept through an exam (and actually the only time I actually missed an entire exam because I failed to wake up--falling asleep partway through is a different story) was in tenth grade. I believe the surrounding circumstances involved an attempt to pull an all-nighter to study for an American History test the following morning. Not only did I fail to complete the all-night challenge, I actually failed to wake up at all and missed my first three classes. So it was all pointless anyway, and I had to spend the rest of the day scuttling around the halls furtively to avoid running into my social studies teacher, and hitting up a friend with adult-looking handwriting to forge an absence note for me. (I believe it ultimately read, "Please excuse Michelle for missing school yesterday, she was not feeling well and was encouraged to stay home," followed by some swoopy scribble that could possibly have been my mother's signature...if my mother was a fifteen year-old girl who couldn't spell her own name.)
Now, looking back, there's no way that my Social Studies teacher could have bought that counterfeit-looking absence note, scrawled in pencil on a piece of torn-out notebook paper, but I also don't think he cared that much. He was this very wavy-gravy kind of guy, heavy into Eastern Religions, the ganja (I can only speculate), and a firm believer in film strips, which he would show instead of teaching, later falling asleep in the back of the room as some eager beaver AV club-type volunteer ran the projector. I got to take a make-up exam the next day, and have hated American History ever since.
xo Michelle |