It seems like the more I worry about something, the more anticlimactic it turns out to be. Note to self: worry about all tests...a lot.
I got home to discover that in the middle of my rejoicing and hopping up and down, a quiet woman, an acquaintance from the Cancer Center lost her battle to cancer. I remember her telling me that it had returned, standing there in the middle of the Wal-mart as people bustled past. She was afraid. In her quietness, her eyes spoke volumes. She was very afraid. And now she is dead.
I think about my fear over these final exams, and once again have come to the conclusion. I am a jackass. A complete and utter jackass.