Bad News, Bears

I am a creature of habit, and this is never more true when it comes to exam days. Since I usually have evening tests, here is my ritual for exam days.

0730: Wake up. Feel like shit while freaking out.

0736: Bathroom routine, includes vomiting. Not kidding.

0740: Eat breakfast, which is ALWAYS one of the following: 1) cereal, 2) leftover Nude Sushi from staying up studying the night before, or 3) leftover Round Table Pizza from staying up studying the night before. (Why doesn't Subway deliver? Goddammit.)

0800 - whenever test time is, probably 1700: Park ass in VLSB library, 2nd floor, left side study carrels. Panic while reading through everything. Think about doing problem sets, then realize that I still don't know enough information to do the problems anyways. Problem sets are consequently neglected.

1900: Come out of exam hall feeling shitty with fingers plugged in ears so I don't have to listen to my classmates talk about all the problems that I definitely got wrong.

1930: MMMMMM HEINEKEN/BLUE MOON/PARTY-LEFTOVER-COORS-LIGHT
2000: MMMMMM WHITE RUSSIAN
2002: MMMMM WHITE RUSSIAN NUMERO DOS

I haven't really changed my routine in the past three years. Normally, my mother call me to tell me that it's not healthy and that if I would just study regularly instead of cramming everything in the two days before the exam, I wouldn't freak out like this and my GPA would look more like a square number. I usually expect her to do the whole "keep your grades up, go to med school" brah brah brah overbearing Chinese mother schtick, because, well, she's old and Chinese and barely speaks English. It's nothing new, and usually, I just tune her out while playing Solitaire and just utter "mmhmm" every few minutes. I tune back in when she gets to the important stuff, like when I'm getting picked up.

Last night, I called my mom to figure out when she's going to come pick me up after finals, which eventually turned into her telling me to start finding a job and study for the MCAT, to which I said "fuck it," to which she said "don't use bad language," to which I said "...you understood that?"

Apparently my mom knows more English than I thought.

Anyway, as I braced for her usual "try hard in school" lecture, she pulled a 360 degrees a la Jason Kidd (+5 points for reference) and said this:
"Just go to bed. Your grade's not going to get any better, so you might as well get a full night's sleep."

Bricks were falling out of my jeans.

My mother has finally given up all hope on me. Free at last!