Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Testing, Testing, One, Two, Three
Today is the second (and last) day of the Illinois Bar Exam, that semi-annual exercise in pain, futility, and jauntily-layered test-taking fashion. Each July and February, literally hundreds of tired- and crazy-looking people who didn’t know what else to do after graduating with political science or history degrees converge on Chicago’s magnificent mile, temporarily bypassing the lures of the American Girl store and the Rainforest Cafe for two days of number-two-pencil-induced madness. Brows furrowed with concern, they sit in tiny, over-air-conditioned rooms and try to remember how negotiable instruments work or what the hell a fee tail is. Afterwards, they all sit around drinking as though they can kill those specific brain cells that were devoted to the useless memorization of choice of law rules and talking about the test, or about how they don’t want to talk about the test. It’s a cruel, ridiculous haze, but still ultimately preferable to the equivalent two days of actual work in any office in any industry in this country. The bar exam is painful, but at least each day is over in six hours and there’s no bitter, deeply troubled boss to criticize you while you’re taking it. So congratulations to all my friends and everyone taking the bar, and good luck. Because there are no "study breaks" in the world of employment, and try though we might, life’s biggest questions simply can’t be answered via scantron.
Today is the second (and last) day of the Illinois Bar Exam, that semi-annual exercise in pain, futility, and jauntily-layered test-taking fashion. Each July and February, literally hundreds of tired- and crazy-looking people who didn’t know what else to do after graduating with political science or history degrees converge on Chicago’s magnificent mile, temporarily bypassing the lures of the American Girl store and the Rainforest Cafe for two days of number-two-pencil-induced madness. Brows furrowed with concern, they sit in tiny, over-air-conditioned rooms and try to remember how negotiable instruments work or what the hell a fee tail is. Afterwards, they all sit around drinking as though they can kill those specific brain cells that were devoted to the useless memorization of choice of law rules and talking about the test, or about how they don’t want to talk about the test. It’s a cruel, ridiculous haze, but still ultimately preferable to the equivalent two days of actual work in any office in any industry in this country. The bar exam is painful, but at least each day is over in six hours and there’s no bitter, deeply troubled boss to criticize you while you’re taking it. So congratulations to all my friends and everyone taking the bar, and good luck. Because there are no "study breaks" in the world of employment, and try though we might, life’s biggest questions simply can’t be answered via scantron.
