The pinnacle of apathy

It's 4 am and I've got someone else's outline (for a class I rarely attended) on my lap. That can only mean one thing: finals.

Yes, folks, at 8:15 am I will be sitting down for the start of my 6th and final round of law school finals. I have only been to this particular class about 5 times, and on the rare occasion that I actually did show up I spent the entire class period pondering important, class-related topics such as Heath Ledger's death (RIP) and how to win at Minesweeper on Expert difficulty (I still can't get a faster time than 440 seconds, dammit).

My point in all this is that, through the constant onslaught of sleep-inducing tests administered to me by this fine educational institution, I've completely and irreversibly lost any fear of tests, whatsoever. In fact, I've come to think of tests not as an assessment of my mastery of the subject matter, but as an exercise in pure endurance. Every time I sit down to take an exam, I'm furious that I'm losing 3 hours of my life in order to drudge through something so tedious. Don't ask me to name a better way to measure my knowledge of the material taught, but the current method is KILLING me inside.

So while I'm sitting in a classroom full of stressed-out, over-caffeinated kiss-asses, trying to stay awake long enough to finish this 3-4 hour long traverse through bullshit, think of me and shed a tear.

April Fool's

Gotcha.