[A quick bit of fiction I wrote in a workshop a few weeks back.]
For the normal astrophysics grad student, finals week is a special breed of hell, purgatory, medieval torture, and bad karma pressed into a few dozen sheets of paper. The multiple choice questions give new meaning to the phrase “pick your poison.” The essay questions give a sensation of one’s brain being dropped into a rusty food processor.
And then there’s me.
Forget the old cliche of sleeping through the wake up call. My alarm clock woke me up when it was supposed to. It’s me that’s the problem.
I wonder why my shaving cream smells like hazelnut, until it dawns on me that my coffee had a distinct odor of Barbasol. I drank it anyway, being too preoccupied with the umpteenth special relativity equation, after which I could only spare half an hour to review my notes on the properties of super-heated plasma jets accelerated by black holes. The fact that I stirred the cocktail of coffee and the wrong kind of cream with a mechanical pencil is a mere footnote in my mental process. But not the kind of footnote I need to memorize for The Exam.
My roommate, before prancing off to his art appreciation final (where, as I understand it, finger painting can be done for extra credit), tells me, “No pressure, dude.”
I’ve never wished so dearly that I could show him what “no pressure” looks like. In the vacuum of space.
No, no, I berate myself as he skulks out the door. Space isn’t a total vacuum! There are still a few particles drifting around out there. Wayward, serving no particular function, just like me if I don’t pass The Exam.
15 minutes later…
Terrific. Notes are piled into my satchel, I’m leaving with three minutes to spare. And now of course is the day my car gives me the silent treatment, until it’s placated with a new battery.
Okay. Okay. Fine. I’ll walk. Or awkwardly jog/hurry with a satchel slapping me in the flank. Whichever works.
I arrive at the imposing silhouette of the university building, and the exam’s beginning in less than five minutes.
Brilliant. How can this day get any —
NO! No. I didn’t finish it. You can’t be jinxed if you didn’t complete it, right?
Deep breaths. Go to your happy place.
That’s okay. I forgot my shower anyway. Or maybe I did and just forgot to rinse. Why do I smell shampoo?
My eyes are stinging. Yep, definitely forgot to rinse.