Note to self

This is insanity on a stick. I’m so nervous. Paper signs have pointed me in the direction of a white room. This room has 12 other people waiting, the only sound to break up the monotony of the ventilation system, are coughs and sniffles. Thank you winter.
No one knows if we are in the right place, there was no one to greet us, just the cold emptiness of this white room with its white walls. A clock on the wall with bright red glowing numbers let’s me know I’m early. I don’t know what to do with myself… I forgot my French note book at work. I guess I’ll blog. More people shuffle in… My nerves get worse. I wish I had lied and said I couldn’t speak French. I don’t know if I’ll pass… But I’ll do my best… And GAH! Someone just walked in reeking of cheap cologne. The smell of rotted fruit fills the air. Oh and did I mention I ripped my shirt as soon as I came in. Yep… It’s been that kind of day so far.

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