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Dear Bar Exam:

By "Daisy Duke"

The bar exam is really, really screwing with my chi. Or my mojo. Or whatever you call it.

Point A: I have typed every single exam in law school I have been allowed to type...which has been about 90% of them. The bar exam employs the same fancy schmancy softwear to "safely" type your exam...but after reading through their "rules" I have decided to (yee gads) hand write my exam. I know that the greatwhitenetherworldblackspaceportal won't eat a handwritten essay answer and after reading about their abundance of technical support (Read: Zero, type at your own risk and if you screw up you FAIL and may God have mercy on your soul!) and then after dropping my beloved Vaio off my desk earlier this week (it was the flu! it made me do crazy things like tangle my foot in the power cord and my ipod cord and cause a large catastrophe!) I realized I might just be better off writing. Karmic-ly and all. So I'm writing. With a pencil. The way The Bar Examination Gods intended.

Point B: I am celebrating my 25th birthday this May. (In fact, if you are reading this on May 1, well then, very happy birthday month to me!) And it is a SATURDAY birthday. These only come along what, once every seven-ish or so years? I know Leap Years throw it off a bit, but lets just say seven for today's sake. And this year the stars aligned and I got my very own 25th-Saturday birthday. And then Bar/Bri in all their infinite wisdom needed to find an empty day to make up for the completely random Friday off (Read: When all the bar examination teachers decide to go downtown and get rowdy on tequila the Thursday night before and preemptively cancel the Friday morning classes) Guess what day they picked?

My Saturday 25th Birthday.

And so, Bar Exam, I hate you. I already knew I would, but yeah, its official. You and I are on probation. Prepare for the Dear John letter shortly.

PS- I am still sick but slowly recovering. BISMOW has not recovered from the sight of me vomiting up chicken noodle soup (practically Exorcist style) and he is actually getting a few sniffles himself but I solemnly maintain that it is not my fault. I think he just wants some homemade soup. Luckily for him I have an itching to make sherried tomato soup. Which, um yeah. Is totally what the doctor ordered.....

Full post as published by Legally Blonde Ambition on April 30, 2008 (boomark / email).