The Evilest Test in all the Land

I have way more respect for CPA’s now. Even if they’re idiots now, at one point in their lives they had their shit together.

The test I took last week was so crazy hard. Usually I can get by on tests by just being my smart little self and getting into the mind of the tester and figuring out those multiple choices without really knowing anything. But this time, I was in trouble. No more relying on smart and cute. This test was all technical and was not messing around. The only moment when my all those AP days finally came in handy was during the open answer section where I was asked to “define the meaning of ‘efficiency and effectiveness’ and how they relate to a company’s internal controls.” I think I used more big words then any accountant ever has before. I’m hoping they’ll read my answer and pass me just so they can let someone into the profession who will be able to proofread other accountants’ work.

The whole testing process was crazy strict. The room was all quiet and windowless and contained one pleasantly plump southern woman who was proctor for the test site. Every time she got up from her desk, she had to put her thumb on a little electronic pad at different stations so she could verify she was somewhere in the room. It was a little creepy. After checking two types of ID, she told me that my exam was 4 and a half hours long and that I could take three 5 minute breaks but I could not leave the room or take out any books or papers. This did not bode well for me as all I brought with me were books and papers.

When I signed in, I noticed I could tell what type of exam all the people in the room with me were taking by looking at their section of the sign in/out sheet. The girl in the booth next to me was taking her Cosmetology exam. The proctor girl then gave me a key to a locker where I could put everything. I couldn’t even take a sweater into the testing room, much less a pencil. She escorted me to my computer “stall” in the testing room, which was all videotaped and monitored. I felt like every time my eyes wandered from the screen, the camera would zoom in on me and the southern lady would be glaring at me through the one way glass, so I’d quickly duck my head back within my “stall” and pretended to keep working. (In actuality I was cheating of the Cosmetology girl.)

Taking breaks was an experience. All I had brought to eat was a granola bar and I’d forgotten water. But I had to eat my food in front of the monitor lady, I guess so she could be sure I didn’t have any notes taped over the wrapper. So I had to eat my granola bar while hunched ashamedly in the corner, with my eye on the clock. Then I’d walk the four feet back to the southern lady’s desk and she’d ask for my ID. Everywhere I went I had to take my ID. I was like “I haven’t left the room.” And she was all “I need to check your ID upon each exit and entrance to the exam.” And I’d have to sign in and out on a sign in sheet. Each sign out and back in was like 2 minutes apart. I thought about labeling each one:

Sign out 1: 9:54 to 9:56 – pee break.
Sign out 2: 11:02 to 11:03 – two bites of granola bar.
Sign out 3: 12:33 to 12:34 – just to bug the proctor

By 1 PM, I’d only eaten a handful of cereal and two nervous bites of the granola bar. I had to wear the noise-cancelling headphones just to drown out my growling stomach. Not the mention to drown out the noise of the tapping keys of the girl at the computer next to me, who I can only assume was writing novel about the use of non-acetone nail polished for her Cosmetology license.

I finished the test early, and upon my final sign out, the southern lady said “Well, I see there’s four parts to this test, so I assume I’ll be seeing you again soon. I’ll keep an eye out for the red head.” OK, now I really don’t like this place.