I'm panicking. Not like a little bit of nervousness, not like a slight flutter of "gosh I hope I do well." No, no. We're talking full on curling into the fetal position and hiding under the covers panick.
What causes this panick you ask? A yellowy-orange book.
This book to be exact.
I suddenly find myself three days away from taking the GMAT. The Graduate Management Admissions Test. The test that will set me up for a graduate program to earn my Master's in Business Administration. The 4 hours that will determine if I get into one of the better programs here or if I have to try again to get a higher score or settle for a less than ideal program. The $250 I paid to have someone assess my likelihood for success in such a program.
Here's the deal- regardless of how I do on the test, I know I'm going to get into a program and be successful once classes begin. How do I know this? I know myself. I'm a bit of an overachiever. I don't like the idea of putting forth anything but my best. This is how I know I'm going to do well in any MBA program I begin.
Plus, I'm a little competitive. Ok, if you ask the big guy he might say that it's more than a little. But in any event, I'm not going to do anything less than all that I can.
Does this test change anything about me as a person? No. Does this test mean anything, really, other than a line item on an entrance application? No. Do the results offer anything more than a brief period of bragging rights depending on the overall score? No. Do I think I might be being a bit of a drama queen over the whole thing? Maybe, but just a little.
Am I already planning to celebrate on Saturday as soon as it's finished and my pencil is down (well, keyboard really, it's all computerized)? Yes. Yes I am.
And then I'll wait for the official results. Which may or may not be less stressful than actually taking the test.