Tonight i was reminded of my University career (i graduated from a State University with a Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing and an Additional Major in Psychology). My drinking problem became apparent very early on in my studies, but College is great camouflage for alcoholism.
In my Senior year, i toyed with the idea of going to Grad School for a Masters so i had to take the GMAT (?—GSAT? who can be bothered to remember this crap?). The all-day test started at 8 on a Saturday morning and was rigorously timed like all the official tests.
The night before the exam, i planned to finally crack the study texts i’d bought months before, but a party broke out in my apartment instead. i got drunk on Lambrusco and have vague memories of walking around my apartment barefoot, wearing a jean jacket with no shirt. Then i remember hurling an empty bottle of wine at the wall over my bed. The glass shattered and sprayed the sheet like the dregs of the wine. i took off all my clothes and passed out on the broken glass.
Somehow i woke up in time for the test, with the blood stains on the sheet from the cuts on my back indecipherable from the wine stains. i didn’t have time to shower, but i made it to the exam center before the start of the test. i think the only way i was able to survive that day was that i was still drunk in the morning, and at lunch i must’ve done something to stave off the hangover (probably popping Tylenol as it couldn’t hurt you back then, like everything else we didn’t know) because i survived the entire day.
i decided not to go to Grad School and don’t remember what the results of my exams were. Except Logic.
There was a Logic section in the test and i scored in the 95th percentile.
Just goes to show you, Alcoholism defies Logic.