Tomorrow morning, at a ridiculously early hour, my mind shall be timed, stretched and measured.
It's called the ACT.
Nervous? Yeah. My strengths do lean toward English, (though if you read my blog you should know that they don't lean very far) but I am horrible, awful and in all other terms hopeless at Mathematics.
I could honestly fail that portion of it... numbers do not make sense to me. Words are much kinder. Numbers are staunch, strict and they are always the same. Yet I can't remember for the life of me how they work. You can give me a problem and I can invent a very charming way to get an interesting answer for you... but it's just not the right one. Like, ever.
With words, on the other hand, we have this delightful gray area. The answer is completely dictated by the creativity of the individual. You give people a writing prompt and none of the essays will be the same. They will all be different. And yet, all of them could be right. It's truly wonderful, isn't it? (Don't be fooled into thinking that I am not worried about writing the timed essay. I am. Yet I don't think it will as massive a disaster as my Math score.)
Word to the wise- do not wait to do this for the first time until you are a Senior. I had my reasons, of course, (I was bound and determined not to go to college until my Junior year. That's another story for another time) but I regret it very much.
So as I count down these last terrible hours, I torture myself with 'maybe's' and 'what if's'. People tell me I will do just fine (I know really nice people), but of course, I am unsure.
Funny thing is, I will be an internal disaster tonight and tomorrow, but once it actually starts, I will probably shift into survival 'kick this thing's butt' mode.
Hopefully kicking butt translates into success. Or at least not total failure. That is some semblance of success, no?