I've never been a confident test taker. It doesn't matter if I know the material cold, I still sweat the process.
I hate getting answers wrong. Even when there is no wrong answer, like in my eye examination today. The doctor asks a simply question -- What's the smallest line that I can read. I want to read the tiniest letters at the bottom of the chart, as if that's the difference between an A and a B. Then I overexplain. "Well, if I squint, I can read the last one from the bottom. See? That's an R. No, maybe a P. Wait. Let me blink my contact lens back into position. Ahhh, it could be... oh hell, a D?
The questions get harder.
"Is it better this way or ..... that way?"
The first way!
"Better the first way or this way?"
Oh shit. I don't know. Pretty close.
"Better 1, or 2?"
"Better 1 or 3?"
"Better 3 or 4?"
3. I said 3. Yes, Definitely 3! ARRRRGH.
So many choices. So much potential for picking wrong. I'm almost apologetic in my answers and wish, just once, that the doctor would give me some positive feedback but he doesn't say anything aside from presenting the questions and telling me when I should move to the other chair so he can shine a super bright light in my eyes and ask me to blink only once, then open my eyes as wide as possible.
With all the questions asked and answered, the doctor sits on his chair and grades my performance. He jots more notes, audibly mumbling to himself. I swear I'm nearly holding my breath waiting to hear if I passed or failed.
How goofy is that? There is no pass or fail, just an analysis of whether my eye sight needs adjusted correction or not.
Someday, they'll invent an optical scanner that "reads" our eyeballs and automatically figures out what we need. Then I'll finally stop feeling like a student who didn't study enough for the big exam.
Friday Questions - Closing out April with more Friday Questions. By the way, this was Shirley Temple’s birthday. She was born a day before my mom. But as the years went pass...