Seems not too many of you are all that interested(you all went and moved the party on me, didn’t you? Always happens to me ). So I put this here for posterity. (which reminds me–where do old threads go?)
Anyhoo, I entered the testing facility at 0800 sharp and quickly learned that the folks at S…(name withheld to protect the innocent) are somewhat lacking in a sense of humor or even civility. Gal behind the glass partition seems to just want name, rank and serial number. I wasn’t planning on chatting, just sayin’ “good morning”. :rolleyes:
Public rest room reeks of mold–my sinuses immediately start screaming. Gah.
Am photographed, told to bring my glasses( but not my glasses case), hang up my coat (not responsible for any lost or stolen articles), find a locker with lock and key, put purse there and follow her-of-the-no-common-courtesy.
Enter a room filled with cubicles (I looked for Dilbert), and am given #6. Immediately think of “The Prisoner” and want to know who is number 1.
Focus!
Have to sit thru about 15 minutes worth of stupid computer directions, which scan like origami as translated from the Japanese. Realize that I already know this shit and move on.
Do my essays. First one, I almost run out of time (ack!); second one, do alright, but battle an intense need to use the facilities. Raise my hand.
Proctor comes in and I ask when I can take a break. She states in a monotone, “the computer will tell you when.” Immediately think of 2001, Space Odyssey and HAL…
Click on the button and the computer gives me a 10 minute break! Yay! Potty time.
Have to sign out, take picture ID with me. Forget to take watch with me, and now panic in mold-reeking toilet as to how much time I am taking in there. Bolt back to test–must sign in (and yes, she does check my ID again)–find I was in toilet for 3 minutes. <sigh>
Back at it–Verbal first. Don’t mind the analogies (which they suck at, btw) or the antonyms (ditto), but hate, hate, hate the reading comprehension. Now, RC is an important thing, I think we all agree, but the stuff they put in there is soooooo boring to read! I think they count on that, actually. Your eyes will glaze over and you’ll pick the wrong answer…
On to Math. Yikes. It starts bad and goes downhill. I am sweating now and my back feels like it’s being sawn in half (nasty chairs in there). I can hear other test takers making small noises and sighs and half formed whispers. My chair is creaky. When I move like this it squeaks; when I move over this way, it kinda thuds in a weird way. Oh, cripes! Focus! I don’t KNOW if these parameters make z less than x when they are folded, spindled and mutilated. Furthermore, I don’t CARE. Ack! the time! Holy shite–guess on last 5…
But wait, folks! there’s more! I get to take the experimental portion. Yes, I LIKE being a guinea pig for the testing service. Sure, why not? It’s Verbal (thank og). I sit thru MORE instructions on computer usage that I again realize are self-explanatory. This stuff is easy-peasy. I finish 45 questions in less than 20 minutes.
THEN.
I have to decide–keep scores or dump? I am asked this (in proper academic language) no less than 4 times. I am terrified that I will accidently click the WRONG button. I compulsively read and re-read the screen. OK, boys, here goes.
I click.
There is a flash of gray, blank screen and a million neurons start firing up from the massive adrenalin release I have.
But, no. My scores show up on the screen:
Verbal: 770
Math: 510
My entire body relaxes and I can’t stop smiling. I want to hug Ms Glass Cubicle, but don’t think we’re there yet in our relationship. I re-acquire my coat, purse, book, ID and watch and drive away, one step closer to my goal of Grad School.
<doffs hat; bows>