I don't remember the last time I took a test in school. (Side note: I wouldn't remember what I had for breakfast this morning if I didn't have the same thing every day. Memory is not my strong suit.) It must have been in the Photoshop class I took three or four years ago. (Remember the test? I don't even remember the class, except for the drill instructor we had for a teacher. That class was no fun at all.)

With any luck I won't remember the midterm we had in our ASL class tonight. (This class is fun, but the test? Not so much. I do hope to remember what I studied, though.) I was so tense that I very nearly cracked. I swear, I think I saw a seam starting to split before I managed to rein myself in a little.

And what was the point of all that stress? I'm taking the class for fun, and I'm doing pretty well, I think. Stressing out over moments when I'm being tested, either on the job or at school (or anywhere else) is just part of my makeup.

This was an easy test, except for the hard parts. The teacher promised it would be easy, and he promised it would be fun. Next time he makes promises like that, I'll know how to take them. For most of the test, he stood in front of the class and signed, and we had to write what he was signing. Most of it was easy enough. He did the finger spelling slowly and emphatically, and I'm fairly sure of my answers on those questions.

Where I had my biggest problems was where I knew I'd have my biggest problems. He would draw shapes in the air, and we'd have to draw them on our papers. Sounds easy, doesn't it? Well, it's not. First of all, you have to draw from the signer's perspective, so left is right and right is left. And I was concentrating so hard, so afraid I'd miss something, that I think I squeezed all the lead out of my pencil.

Oh, I probably did all right. I answered all the questions, and if I got any wrong I don't know what they are (so I'd probably get them wrong again if I had a chance to do the test over (which I'm not asking for, thank you very much)). I'm just glad we're moving on to the next unit. We got the new (free, experimental) videos tonight, so I don't have to look at the same twelve conversations over and over again any more. I was definitely ready to move on, no matter how I did on the test.

Sitting in the car before class tonight, waiting for the Italian students to vacate our classroom, I spilled coffee all over my dashboard console. I even slopped some over onto Suzanne's hand when she tried to help. We used most of the tissues in her purse to clean it up. I don't think it was nerves. I think the barista filled my cup too full. And I'm sticking with that story. Next time when she asks if I want room for cream, I'm going to say yes.