JULZBOY

        Sometime
last week, I awoke with a start. My ears were popping, my eyes so dry
that it hurt to open them and with my mouth unable to vocalize the
thoughts swirling in my head. I was drenched with sweat, not due to the
turned off air-conditioning unit, but rather to the ebbing fever which
would subside one moment but would come back with a vengeance, the
next. My temples were pulsating wildly, threatening to split my skull
in two. I looked at my luminous clock which read 4:12am. Darn it, I had
been sick for a week, and I was getting sick of that feeling altogether.   

       I did my “bimpo” bath,
swallowed a couple of weird looking tablets which I was able to rummage
from the medicine cabinet and drank a copious amount of alcohol-tasting
water. Feeling marginally better, I turned off the lights and sat back
down on my bed.

   
    Unable to sleep, my mind wandered off to a myriad of things. I
thought about my recent Hongkong trip and the pilgrimage to the

Church

of

Manaoag

with some of my sincerest law school friends. I even thought of finally getting over Ateneo’s bitter loss to that "speling and gramar" school located along Taft. But I realized I can’t even fathom the idea of remotely giving respect to Al Salle. So I did what I usually did when I have too much time on my hands… I thought about the BAR.

   
    I couldn’t help it. Beneath the veneer of a seeming overabundance
of confidence is the pessimistic weight of my ultra-conservative self.
The what-ifs abounded and my sightless vision of the unknown refused to
let my heart beat its normal pounding. I’ve always hated the fact that
I’m a closet-worrier. The fact that the result of this test just might shape how I will live the rest of my life, certainly does NOT give me reason to simply brush the thought of it aside.

        Yes, na k-kerby din ako dun.

   
    In all honesty, I tried to enjoy the four or five months I devoted
to studying for it. For the most part, I think I did pretty well in keeping my sanity intact.
On the actual days of the bar exam, I even tried to plaster a smile on
my face, hoping to relish the ONLY time I would go through it. Save for
the Political Law catastrophe and the Criminal Law disaster that
transpired, I might have even felt confident enough to say that I did
relatively okay. But unfortunately, they did happen and I’m a nervous
wreck because of these two. Oh, I haven’t even gone into the MINOR detail of having the WORST handwriting in the whole batch.

        Shoot, I think I’m gonna be sick again.

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