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: Dreaming things: Last night it was me taking the SAT-9 exam (for heaven's sake!) under very adverse conditions. No desks in the classroom, just two broken down saggy old couches and fifty other people. Some of the other students had their parents there, complete with sniveling toddlers, and the TA started playing some ghastly music, to which I objected, and she turned it down, but not off. I sat on the floor on an avocado green shag carpet that was filthy.

My mother was the teacher proctoring the exam. I complained to her, and she said "Poor Franny!" but refused to do anything about it. The baby whined louder, and there were no bathrooms. We also weren't allowed scratch paper, and the ballpoint pen they gave me was missing the little spring. The two #2 pencils I had dutifully brought were confiscated.

In the dream, I worked the first problem, a ratio and proportion one, and I knew my answer was absolutely correct. I knew all my answers would be right. I worked it with a nub of pencil I found and then went over my figures holding the pen down with my thumb, and then I thought "this is ridiculous! I'm NOT going to do this." I took my test booklet and tossed it at the principal and informed her I was sueing her and the school under the ADA for improper accomodations.

The principal (a principal of my acquaintance who shall remain nameless) begged me to reconsider, since my scores would raise the dismal school average, and I stalked out.


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© 2001-2006 Frances Whitney.