Shellshocked

Just came out of the accounting final - suffice to say that I'm scared shitless enough to head straight to the library. Do not pass go, do not collect $200. It's as if someone just slapped me over the head with a wet tuna, and about time too. Somehow, "I just need to pass" doesn't quite cut it anymore. That's just self-justification and reassurance, when what I need is a liberal dose of wake-up-and-smell-the-euros-you-just-flushed-down-the-toilet. And maybe a good spanking when it's all over.