But really, who cares?

I made the mistake of scheduling my national certification exam for a week when Monk would be out of town and my brother would be, well, around. All the time. Making noise and messes and just generally being in my space. Although since he has no idea what to do with himself when he isn't working (which is pretty much most of every day), the latter was inevitable.

For weeks I've been trying to focus and retain and not panic, etc. for the exam that would basically be the culmination of everything I've been doing over the past year. I thought for sure I'd be taking it at least twice. Which was really going to suck since a) I'd already told a bunch of people the exam date and geez how humiliating would it be to have to tell them I'd failed? along with b) we don't really have the money for me to be taking this test more than once. Oh, and c) wahhh, I just want to get this over with and behind me, wahhh, I miss drinking.

So anyway, as of 5 p.m. yesterday, just call me Nationally Certified. I'm not confident enough to say I made that test my bitch, but I'm pretty sure I could have gotten it to pay for a drink or two.

4 comment:

Anonymous Duke of Huzzard said...


12:41 PM  
Blogger That Nervous Girl said...

Yeah! I mean, HELLS yeah! Go on with your Nationally Certified self and celebrate!

12:44 PM  
Anonymous skyhawk said...

YEAAHH! Congrats, Quinn! Drinks and tapas for you and Monk on me (eventually).

10:50 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...


So, Nationally Certified means you can practice in the midwest, right? At least one time?

Way to go, yo.


4:57 PM  

Post a Comment

<< Home