I don't want to talk about it. But I will.
That was one hard test we had tonight in our ASL class. I thought I was ready, but I wasn't ready for that. I get so used to the signers on the video tape that when our teacher does the same signs, they don't look right. I don't think he was trying to make it that hard, and he was willing to repeat as often as necessary, but I have to admit I got lost a few times.
Or maybe I didn't. Maybe I got every question right. I answered them all, I know that for sure. And what I wrote was what I thought I was seeing. I just wish I could be sure I saw what he was trying to sign.
I'm always a little too jittery at the beginning of the test. I'm trying so hard to focus that my emotions get the better of me. That kind of intensity isn't the key to good test-taking. And the first section was the hardest. He signed thirty little stories, from which we had to pick out a number and what it referred to. He could have started with something a little more straightforward, so that we could ease into the more challenging parts. That's the way I would do it.
He's a good teacher, and he wants us to succeed, but by the time we get to the final in four weeks, I'm going to be a mass of frayed nerve endings. All the studying I can possibly do won't prevent it. The one thing that might help is if I go to class next week, get the test back, and find out I did better than I thought. I'm gently placing all my eggs in that wee basket for now.