No idea how I did on my French Grammar exam, though I didn’t leave any blank and only starred at one without knowing an answer to write. So much goes into answering the questions correctly: comprehension, correct conjugation, proper pronouns. It takes fairly little to make however small of an error.
The whole process felt much like taking the SAT over again—held on a large campus used solely for exams (hence its name, Maisons des Examens), hundreds of students seated in the large testing room, our names and numbers checked off prior to the reading of the directions and the beginning of the exam.
But seeing as this was my French Grammar final and not the SAT, the French examiners made clear their strong discouragement of mid- test bathroom breaks. French students, so they explained, can go through a seven hour exam
without a bathroom break. And the French, one of the large, broad women huffed,
are no exceptional breed.
Yeah,
whatever. I’d care to argue that their bladder capabilities apparently are.
The shutter outside my window broke yesterday evening. I told Madame this morning. She yelled, irritated, telling me it would cost a 1,000 euros to fix. The shutters are on the outside of the window and save the string to pull them up and down from the inside of my room, I have no way of messing with the shutters themselves. I understood Madame’s frustration, I just wish she hadn't taken it out on me the morning of my exam.
Whatever, I'm moving out in just a few days. Not that running away from your problems ever really makes them go away.
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