Training is so free

After a long second week of training sweating sports bets and watching the open it’s finally Friday. All you have to do is pass your intermediate accounting exam and you’re on the way to Chattanooga for a weekend of degeneracy with the boys. You need to cherish these moments, as your life as a free man is starting to expire. … a few hours later Picture this: it’s 1:30, I just put down a salad bowl from chopt (think sweet green think leaf and grain) with Jatthew (baseball at Claremont McKenna) and a few of his chach frat boys. Exam begins I skip over the first few MC questions as I have not the slightest clue what they’re even asking. Skip forward a few minutes later and haven’t answered a single question. I stroll through part 2 (10k scavenger hunt) in about 30 minutes. You’re an investment banker you say, you can do this you say. 30 minutes later you turn it in and receive a failing grade of 67. Fuck. You call an Uber with a stop at your hotel to the airport sit down in the admirals club and crack open a complimentary miller lite and think to yourself, “what are they gonna do, fire me?”