No time to panic

The PCAT is Wednesday, July 27th.

I’m freaking out a little, when there is no need. I’ll do the best I can. I’ve been studying. I’m trying to get a Romanian gymnast’s level of concentration going. I’m wearing the outfit I’ll wear to the test center.

When I take exams, it’s clear to me that there are things I need to review up until the moment of the exam. I’m going to practice going to bed early, waking up early, eating a protein breakfast (I tried to eat some cereal and the smell made me feel ill).

I went away for a wedding recently, and I think being away and relaxing (despite studying on the plane) got me a little too relaxed. It’s time to amp up again.

I think I’m going to have a morning of playlist of songs to get me ready to crush this thing.

I told my mom’s friends how I spent the summer (they asked what I’ve been doing), and I got the vague sense they thought I’d do poorly on the exam.  They seem awfully skeptical that a person can, you know, be serious about school. Their daughter wasn’t.

Meh. Who cares what they think? I’m not a blood relative of theirs. I won’t let some crotchety naysayers make me feel insecure about what my outcome will be. Fuck them for thinking everybody is the product of inattentive parenting.

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