Weird.

Tests have always made me nervous. My performance at school always meant too much to me. In AP Biology we did this muscle recognition test after we dissected cats. I had missed a couple classes and so I studied extra hard, even missed my art class to come in and study these cat muscles. It should have been clear at that moment I would always have a hard time putting my art first.

Time to take the test. We all stood in a clump in the corner of the lab and began filing into a line. We each had 30 seconds at every station to name a muscle pinned to the foam sheet. Analyze. Ding! Nerves. Rotate to next station and analyze. Ding! Nerves. Rotate and so on. After we were all back in the corner where we began, we just stood and absorbed the failure in the air.

The following week he passed out our graded tests. "100% - great work!" I was so proud and shocked and I think all I did through lunch was avoid the rubbery deli meat and gleam. I might even still have that test. I know I saved the duct tape I found in my alley cat's stomach during dissection.  Is this a sickness?

I think so. I also think it's nothing like what I experienced a couple weeks ago. That story was kind of pointless. It just came to mind. When I saw the positive result on this test (and the following two tests), I did not gleam. I did not feel proud. I wasn't upset or anything. All I could think was, "Weird."

"Aren't I still a seventeen year old senior in high school finding joy in my little successes? What? 25 - really? I've been married five years you say!? Wow. Weird."

I'm still processing. It's still weird.