don't panic

Yesterday I finally took the GRE. I was really nervous about my score because my diagnostic tests had yielded a fairly abysmal math score, I hadn't had to remember any obscure vocabulary words since the SAT and I didn't have time to re-take the test for a better score before my grad school applications were due. Knowing I would be feeling a bit queasy over all of this, my mom called me the night before the test to give me the parental pep talk:

Mom: You'll do fine. You did really well on the SAT and the GRE is just like the SAT. Just don't panic. Stay calm. You know this stuff. The vocabulary won't be a problem for you--you know that stuff--and you'll be fine with the math. All you need to do is find a strategy and stick to it. Just stick to the strategy and you'll do fine. Stick to the strategy until it breaks and then... don't panic, you'll do FINE. I'm sure you'll do fine.

Me: Ok. Thanks, Mom.

Mom: Let me know how it turns out. But you'll do fine. I love you. Just don't panic.

I appreciate her efforts to make me feel better before the big day, really I do. But at the time I was just trying to insulate myself from my fear that I would fail miserably and my stellar letters of recommendation and decent grade point average and killer letter of purpose would be eclipsed by some horrific GRE score. I could just imagine the graduate program admissions staff reading over my application: Why this girl is mentally retarded--just look at this math score! The poor dear must be confused about which school she's applying to. I'll just forward this on to the retard college down the street. I hear they have a new jungle gym now.

I would die, I would simply curl up and die. All of my hard work in school and life just to be thwarted by a stupid standardized test? Oh God. Breathe. Remember what Mom said: DON'T PANIC--EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE.

My phone rang again. It was my mom. I must sound more convincing in my test-taking confidence, I thought, or she'll be calling me on the hour until I go to bed.

Me: Yes, Mom?

Mom: Oh my God, oh my God, you have to help me! I've clicked on something or moved it or deleted it, but now my task bar is on the LEFT SIDE of my computer screen and I can't get it to move it only gets BIGGER when I try to move it and I can't get it to go back I don't know what I did! Please you have to help me I don't know what to do please help me I can't find anything I can't work like this oh please!

This coming from the woman telling ME not to panic.

Me: Have you tried dragging the toolbar back to the bottom of the screen?

Mom: I've tried everything--EVERYTHING!--and nothing works! I just can't get it to go back the way it was. I've checked the control panel and I can't find it anywhere, please help me I need your help can you fix it?!

Me: Yes, Mom, don't worry. We'll figure it out. Just don't panic. Everything will be fine.

And everything did: Mom eventually succeeded in repositioning her toolbar at the bottom of her screen and I didn't fail the GRE, despite the fact that we got lost in the ghetto on the way to my testing site. But even that didn't really phase me--in fact, I think that the mild brain hemorrage that I suffered as a result limbered me up for the essay section.

God I hate it when she's right.