Last night, as I lay in bed surrounded by five softly snoring dogs, I decided I was going to take the test. Unlike the tests I’ve seen posted on various Facebook posts, the test I was going to take would be able to tell me far more than what percentage hermaphroditic-gypsy arborist I was. It would go far beyond telling me if I was a cartoon character, a liberal spelunker, or a well-regulated sexual gymnast. This would be a test that would absolutely define me in all aspects.
The test promised to inform me of things known and unknown to me. The test would tell me about my character, my health, my prejudices, my desires, my fears, and my altruism. I would find out if any of my actions have led to the death of another person or enriched someone’s life. It would examine the good in me…and the evil. It would evaluate my perceptions, it would test my loyalty, and it would see how well I dealt with joy and tragedy and stress and pain and pleasure.
The test would be long, but there would be a time limit. Many of the questions would be repeated over and over. I could go back and make some corrections, but I still had to beat the clock. There are a lot of study guides available for the test, but many of them are contradictory, so, at best, they are unreliable. You are not allowed to speak with anyone who has taken the test, and from what I understand, it probably wouldn’t do you any good if you could. There is really no way you can cheat on the test. You can lie, but that’s part of the test. No, this test is a solo effort.
I couldn’t sleep last night; I kept thinking about this test I was going to take. I got out of bed at 3:00 a.m. and went into my office to prepare for the test. The dogs followed me. When I sat down in front of my desk with a hot cup of coffee, I glanced over at Roxie, my canine friend that is dying. She was doing well this morning, and as I looked at her she walked over and put her head in my lap, hoping for a morning head rub. As I looked at her, something began to dawn on me: I was already taking the test.
The test, of course, is Life. I couldn’t tell you how well I’m doing; I have no idea who is scoring it. I just hope I don’t run out of number-two pencils for a while.
(c) 2017 Mike Hood, patheticbob.com