The Story of my Sunday

On Sunday I woke up in the Hotel Indigo. No, this isn't the story of how I downed a bottle of quaaludes and a fifth of Jack Daniels and had a little desperate fifties housewife interlude (what the hell are quaaludes when they're in my medicine cabinet?). I was at the tail end of a smashing girls' week-end with four of my amazing friends from high school (should have been five but Sheila was having pregnancy complications and couldn't travel, which SUCKS beyond belief, not least because she is the driest of dry wits and she would have complimented the sweet lychee liqueur beautifully). The forecast had been dire, but my friend Anne Marie assured me that outside was just a little cloudy and threatening rain. Then Patti came back from her run and after we chipped the ice off of her she said 'it's freezing rain'.


So then we had breakfast because if you're going to subsequently risk your life and your academic future you might as well be full of the best eggs benedict a downtown Ottawa hotel can offer, right? (Actually I had a strawberry smoothie, but I thought the eggs benedict sounded better). Then Bonnie and Patti left to drive Rachelle to the airport and Anne Marie and I went and packed up and left to get her to the airport. Halfway to the airport they called and said Rachelle's flight was cancelled so they were going to hang out at Patti's, which pissed me off because if I'd known there was going to be flight cancelling and further hanging-out going on I never would have booked my stupid exam for stupid Sunday at stupid one-thirty in the afternoon (which, upon reflection and hangover assessment, did not seem like such a great idea even before the cancelling and hanging-out occurred). But Anne Marie's flight was leaving, and we realized Rachelle's was only cancelled because she was flying Bearskin. (Let the bear take you there. In a tiny little toy plane that can't withstand the weather. Okay, enough mocking my home town's airline. But seriously -- let the bear take you there? What the hell were they thinking?)

So I dropped Anne Marie off, very chivalrously (parked at departures and let her drag her own suitcases in -- I didn't want to be dripping wet for my three-hour exam. Lifelong friendship only extends so far). I drove slowly and carefully to Algonquin College, where I parked in the free parking lot and only after inching bit by painful bit over roughly a kilometre and a half of glare ice did I think that maybe I just should have sprung for the goddamned parking metre right in front of building C. I spent a few minutes sitting in my van because I was an hour and a half early, and I was just thinking that it was surprisingly pleasant just sitting there watching the windshield slowly ice over before realizing that I was in very real danger of waking up drooling in three hours and realizing that my exam was half over, so I better start my icy trek.

I had a good book, so the time passed pretty quickly. Actually it's a really good book, and I was faintly annoyed when they opened the doors of the auditorium. I took a seat in the front because you have to leave your coat and purse at the front of the room and I harbour a constant expectation that people are going to steal my stuff. These exams are for anyone that has to write an exam for an online course, so two women come in with boxes, you flash them your I.D. and they find your exam and read which course it is so you can confirm it's the right thing. Mine was called "Information Work II", which almost caused the poor woman to die of boredom in mid-phrase. I felt a fairly deep stab of envy for the person writing the infinitely more glamorous "Money Laundering and Asset Tracing" and briefly considered changing diplomas right then and there.

It was a three-hour exam. I finished in fifty minutes. I like to think this was because I had absorbed the course work so well, but it's entirely possible I missed a page or four. It was only worth twenty percent and I got almost perfect on all the assignments, so I think I'd still pass the course. But I don't think I'll make a habit of scheduling my exams after two consecutive nights of extreme merriment.

Also: I had taken great pride in memorizing the definition of percentage increase (the variation between two variables, measured between two fixed points in time, expressed as a percentage of the earlier number), mostly because it just kept sliding off my mind as if my mind was buttered. I sort of took it as a personal affront that, in the definitions section, she used this as an example, with the definition ALREADY PROVIDED. Humph.


The Mayor! said…
LOL, I try to avoid scheduling anything within a week on either side of getting together with my 4 bestest childhood friends! Especially at my age, sadly the recovery time is multiplied exponentially with each passing year! I have no doubt, however, that you totally kicked ass on your exam!

Wrath Of Mom said…
Oh, that is a bad, baaaaaaad plane name. And the slogan is equally horrible.
Pam said…
What a coincidence! I'm taking "Money Laundering and how to run a pyramid" next session. Congrats on finishing the exam thing and skate-driving on SUnday.
Mary Lynn said…
Drives me crazy when I study the crap out of something, to the point I know it like the back of my hand, and then I don't end up needing it for the exam anyway. But...but...I was going to show how brilliant I am.

Glad the exam's over.
Ms. G said…
That book sounds like just what the doctor ordered for me. I might actually put some shoes on and go out to look for it today.
I bet you aced that exam!
Nicole said…
Let the bear take you there? Really? That's a thing?
There's that airline again! Bearskin Air - who knew?

I envy your course final that's only worth 20%. My online courses always have the final worth 70% of the mark which I think is totally unfair and lame of them and it has nothing to do with the fact that I failed my MacroEconomics course with them. Pft.
Anonymous said…
Apropos of very little in this post, I have never had eggs benedict. When presented with the options, I just never feel enticed enough to try them. But I adore brunch, so I feel like I may be missing out on a pivotal part of something I love.

And yet, scrambled just sounds better in the moment. I may be in an egg rut, but I'm fairly happy here, so there's that.
Anonymous said…
All these comments on the absurdity of Bearskin Airlines are obviously from people who are unfamiliar with Northern Ontario or maybe even Canada in general because it totally makes perfect sense. Also eggs benedict are the bestest.
Patti Murphy said…
That was a fun weekend. Sigh. You gals rock my world. I missed Sheila though.

You know what was great? I didn't even throw up. Not once.

And I bet you totally aced the exam.
I'd be up for the money laundering exam! (I leave change in my pockets all the time.....)

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