Grr...Exams!

Today was MISERABLE day - the kind when even your usually cheerful horoscope comes with mumblings of dark happenings. (“You will be betrayed by a friend today” or “your partner will be moody and depressed”) I should have gotten the hint when I woke up with a humongous cold that threatened to flood by nostrils with mucus and other unmentionables. Or when my geyser suddenly abandoned its attempt to spout scalding hot water and emitted a stream of cold liquid that seemed like, a million degrees (no, billion. Heck, make that trillion. That’s not enough. HELP!) below freezing point. Then my red shirt (oh, the agonies of school uniform!) was triumphantly extracted from the debris under my bed, (uhh…my mom stores onions in there) adorned with creases that would have daunted a less haggard iron than mine.
That day I gave the most disastrous social paper ever written by yours truly in my fourteen year history. I crammed every clichéd mistake inside a paltry 20 mark paper. The process went something like this:
“What is federalism? How is federalism practiced?” glared the question from the Xeroxed paper.
“Hang on, I know this answer” said my cerebrum confidently. “I read it today morning.”
“No you don’t” said another (much hated) tiny portion smugly. “You read it yesterday morning.”
Uh. Uh.
How can I remember something stuffed inside my overcrowded brain when I was hogging cereal a day ago? Not fair.
So I peeked into my partner’s blank paper, moaned a little and started scribbling. The wrong answers.
Then I came home and howled at my mom, the creator of social studies, the tribe of history teachers and Napoleon for having lived in 1804 and not existing a century later, as my answer confidently assured my teacher, he did.
So my brain told me fiercely, I deserve compensation. So, I’m banging away on my keyboard now, on the eve of my science exam, having shoved every edible molecule within sight into my stomach’s capacious depths. At the moment, even a moody and depressed partner would be a welcome interruption. Or the arrival of the traitorous friend happily promised by my morning horoscope.
But then, *small sigh* horoscopes always have an alarming tendency to be mistaken.