on passing the bar.

I want to take a break from the story-a-day format to tell you a true story.

Last October I found out I had failed the Maryland Bar. (For more information on that tragic event, check out this post.) I decided within 24 hours that I was going to try again.

So I did.

Unfortunately, this time I had to work full time while studying. After two months of walking zombie Courtney, I flew back to Maryland for my second stab at the Bar.

Once the test was done, I was left to wait for results. Again.

Last Friday, the results were posted.

All week, I tried not to think to hard about the upcoming event.

Then Friday morning rolled around. All day I was just...off.

In October, I felt a weird calm all day. It was like being insulated in a cocoon, unable to really feel the anxiety of the impending results.

This time was nothing like that. I was a nervous wreck.

One minute I was trying hard to focus on my work. The next I was willing the clock to tick faster. The next, I was starting to full out panic.

What if I over-simplified my essays? What if the multiple choice tactic I adopted didn't work?

I have never been so jumpy in my life. I got nothing done. Nothing. In a normal day, I process around 1400 lines.

On Friday I did around 800.

Finally, the clock struck 4 and it was time to go home. Naturally, my new co-worker (I got this weird half promotion: I'm a paralegal now but also still a bill analyst. I don't really understand it either) wanted to chat as I was trying to leave. Unwilling to be rude and just bounce, I chatted for a few minutes, eager to go.

I had a plan in place. Mom was supposed to be at church for adoration, a Catholic tradition of spending time in prayer in front of a consecrated Host which we believe is the body of Christ. So I was going to drive to church, park, check my results on my phone, and then pop in to the chapel to share the news.

But then I hit traffic.

Not just heavy volume, but full-on stop and go freeway traffic.

While sitting on the off ramp, cursing the cars in front of me, I struggled.

I should check my results now. We're not moving.
No, I should wait.
But I have to know.
WHAT IF I FAILED? Oh God I have to keep driving until I get to a parking lot or something.
BUT I HAVE TO KNOW. NOW.

Finally I broke down.

Miraculously, the site loaded on the first try. In Maryland, results are posted online by seat number. Each seat number has "pass" or "fail" next to it. Results are also mailed but everyone checks on Friday afternoon at precisely 4:30 pm. Naturally, the biggest challenge to getting your results is just getting the site to load.

So the fact that it loaded immediately at 4:31 was fairly close to a miracle. I frantically started scrolling through the list. All I saw were the "fails" because of course that's all I saw.

Finally I found it: Seat 0049.

And there, next to the words Seat 0049 was the word pass.

I passed.

I screamed.

Not a cute girly scream, but a fainting girl at a Beatles concert scream. I flapped my arms like a baby bird too. I'm pretty sure people stared because all my windows were down, as were everyone else's. But at that moment I didn't care one whit.

I didn't know what to do. I had to tell someone.

I had to tell everyone.

I almost started crying but then something hit me: what if I'd accidentally read the wrong number? So I check again.

Seat 0049: Pass.

I took a screen shot for posterity (back off--this is a huge moment in my life) and started the process of sharing it.

But then the cars started to go and someone honked at me. So I yelled at him that I'd just passed the bar so he should get over it.

Every red light I hit, I worked on my upload.

Now here's the thing: I'm super anti-texting and driving. It's my biggest pet peeve. But I did it anyways.

When it came time to write a caption, all my clever lines went out the door. All I could come up with was that I'd gotten the best news: I passed the Bar.

Next up was the text messages to my family and a phone call to my grandmother.

The congratulations started pouring in almost instantly.

I have never felt so happy in my life as I did when I saw the word "pass" by my seat number.

The weekend was given over celebrating. I got my first massage (aromatherapy, of course). I drank champagne and martinis. I went somewhere new. I spent time outside.

It was glorious.