I got the law school SAT from Barnes and Noble. It cost 50 dollars.

It was full of logic puzzles.

I was confused.

Maybe, I’m not a logical person, I thought. When I went back to the bookstore, I got the GRE instead, which stands for Graduate Entrance Exam.

I learned that I had a poor vocabulary, so I started reading the classics and looking up words in the dictionary.

Miss Helfrich had us line up—this included me, and the other paraeducator, along with the eight students we supported. Blanca was a Mexican girl with big tits and a nice ass. She liked me, but I still didn’t know what to do with that ass.

I was a virgin. She kept complaining about urinary tract infections and her boyfriend.

One day, the school psychologist asked me if I was going to graduate school.

“Yes,” I said “but I don’t know what I want to study yet.”

She was four feet tall and hard to understand because she spoke with a Chinese accent.

“I would like to measure your intelligence,” she said.

I came into the elementary school on a Saturday. The place was quiet. We began to test. It was easy and over before it began.

“How smart am I?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you that,” she said.


She put the protocol into her file and placed it on her desk.

“This is for research purposes only,” she said. Then she handed me 20 dollars for my time.

On Monday, I had to see the principal for my work evaluation. His office was across the hall from that file.

While he was telling me what a great job I was doing, I kept thinking about that file.

It turned out, he had been a school psychologist too, and before that, a monk.

That’s why he never married. He was a happy man.

We discussed the latest brain research, and then he told me to close his door because he had to make some calls.

Wanda’s door was open, and she wasn’t in there. There was the file.

I have committed a few crimes in my life because of my curiosity.

I stole it. When I looked through it, I tried to read it, but I didn’t know how.

I hid it in my car, and finished-out my work day. When I got home, I did an internet search to interpret my crime.

151. I was a genius.

I decided that the easiest way to become a writer was to get a job that wasn’t a job—I would work for the federal government.

6 thoughts on “8.

  1. Mine was 152, but I was only a 7yo child. Maybe it’s changed since then. I don’t always feel quite so smart. I question everything and fight against conventions and norms. Maybe that’s what it means.

    Liked by 2 people

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