Based on the reading selection, which of the following can be inferred?

I have found, in my life, that the only things that I am SURE to do are the things that I vow I will NEVER do. In high school, when asked what I wanted to major in in college, my response was Not Science. One Physics degree later, turns out I was wrong. As part of the high-school-aged right of passage of spending summers with Thomas, I was required to get a Blood Sweat and Tears job one summer. When Thomas suggested I work construction (like my brothers before me), I refused. When Luis was born, I had a decade of construction experience under my belt. Over the years, Thomas has often encouraged me to take the LSAT's, "in case I ever need them." But since I was prone to disagreeing with my dad (mostly on general principle), and because I was sure I'd never need them, I never took them. Until Saturday. Wrong again.

Unfortunately (for me), I decided very late in the game to take them, and only had about 3 1/2 weeks between when I signed up and when I sat for the test. Then, it took me about a week to get my act together and start reading the Princeton Review book. It became very clear, very quickly that I would really benefit from more than 2 1/2 weeks to study. Regardless, I put in as many hours as I could in that time, did LOTS of practice problems, and set out to put my best foot forward on the test.

Honestly, my biggest concern going in to the test was not anything to do with test performance, but rather whether my already small bladder, squished by pregnancy, would be able to hold until the first break. You can use the restroom during the test, but you don't get the time back - and I knew from the practice tests I'd done that I couldn't afford to lose any time! (In the end, my bladder held, but barely.)

I got to the testing center and waited in a big hallway with about 100 other people - most of whom were nervously fidgeting with their number two pencils, nervously pacing up and down the hallway, nervously chatting with the person next to them (sometimes stranger, sometimes friend) or nervously trying not to look nervous. There were also some people nervously sucking down cigarettes outside. Oddly enough, I was not nervous.

When I opened the test booklet, I had a frightening flashback to college. My last exam my senior year was in a class - I've honestly blocked out the name of the course and the name of the professor, though I still remember the room and the seat I sat in - that I did not understand. At all. I failed every test. Spent countless hours in the prof's office getting help with problem sets. Had to redo all of the homework assignments because they were all wrong. It was TERRIBLE. I spent several days studying for the final (which was several days minus a few hours more than I'd spent ever studying for a final) and felt pretty good going in to the test. Until I opened the book. I didn't know how to do one single problem. In fact, I gave a quick look around, feeling sure that the professor had handed out the wrong exam. But he hadn't; the rest of my classmates were furiously writing in their blue books. Panic set in. What was I to do? I re-read the questions, just to make sure, but I still didn't have a clue as to how to start the problems, much less solve them. In the end, I filled the blue book with every fact, equation, variable, and example I could remember from class. To be thorough in my demonstration that, although I had not learned how to actually solve anything during the course of the semester, I had shown up to every class and paid close attention, I also included in my blue book all of the anecdotes and personal stories that the professor had told as well. Turns out that all of this took only about 45 minutes. I had some real panic that I was going to fail that class. That upper level, required for graduation, class. That I wasn't going to graduate. That my four parents, two brothers and grandfather were not going to be particularly understanding of the need to cancel their trip to Boston at the last minute. (I was particularly worried about the opinions of the people who had generously financed my time at BC.) In the end, the professor gave me D+. It was an extraordinarily generous gift, and I gave serious consideration to writing a thank you note (but didn't).

A large digression, but important to set the stage. I opened my LSAT exam and realized that I had NO IDEA how to solve the first logic problem. I couldn't even figure out a diagram. Ouch. Not a good way to start. Instead of panicking, I muddled my way through the rest of the problems in that section. A few sections later, when I came opened up another logic section, I was relieved: Clearly that first section was the experimental section and wouldn't count toward my score. My relief lasted about 15 minutes until I realized that the second logic section was just as hard as the first - and also provided a very similar scenario (and SIX questions) that I had no idea how to solve. Sigh.

When the test was done, I packed my essential belongings back into my Ziploc bag (it was the only bag I could bring into the testing center - with my number 2 pencils, mechanical sharpener, eraser, tissue, keys, and personal identification), and got in my car. It didn't really go like I wanted it go, but I wasn't that surprised either. I knew going in to it, that 2 1/2 weeks wasn't enough time to study. I was sure that, given more time, I could do better (I could figure out how to draw that damned logic problem diagram that stumped me in both sections). So I resolved to take it again (in June, when I'd be about 36 weeks pregnant and have a much smaller, more squished bladder).

Driving home, I felt at peace - an odd feeling for me. I was thinking about what it had been like that morning. Luis had woken up at 5:30a, and woken me up too. We watched some TV, ate some breakfast and I left about 7a. I hadn't gotten as much sleep as I wanted or as much coffee as I'd wanted (too afraid I'd have to pee!). I hadn't prepared as much as I'd wanted to. When I started the car to head out, tears came to my eyes. Lots of them. And I cried. But they were the most amazing tears - tears of confidence and contentment and peace. Despite the setup being far from what I had hoped for, I KNEW that I was in exactly the right spot in the universe. The little voice that sent me out to Arizona (and then eventually brought me back) was talking to me again. It told me that no matter how today went, I was doing the right thing, that I was on the right path. I'm not sure how all this will work out - if I'll every actually need the LSATs, but I know that I need to take them again, to listen to this voice and to stay on this road.