The first hurdle to law school

So back to my law school odyssey...
The first thing I had to do before applying to law school was take the LSAT. Law School Admissions Test: The cruelest standardized exam ever created. Six hours to administer. Five sections, one of which is unscored and pointless. Only you don't know which one. An essay isn't scored either.
Now, I've always aced standardized tests. I earned a 32 on the ACT in high school. I was a National Merit honorable mention for the PSAT. But that was 13 years ago. Apparently you get dumber as you age. The first time I took a practice version of the LSAT, I scored the median, which is about 150. Decent law schools would laugh at that score. So it knocked all the arrogance out of me. Which was a good thing.
I spent six months studying. Every weekend, I went to the public library and staked out a table in a far back corner for several hours to take practice tests. Hours! In the library!
The test has three different kinds of sections: logical reasoning, reading comprehension and analytical reasoning. Logical reasoning was straightforward. Premise, conclusion. Is there a logical fallacy? Had to brush up a bit. Got a little rusty with logic while working as a journalist.
But reading comprehension was easy because that's what I do for a living: Read and write. So I consistently scored best on this section. That's a good thing, because I had to make up for the last section: analytical reasoning.
Analytical reasoning, also called logic games, is the cruel part. I prefer the moniker "godforsaken story problems written by tormenting demons from the 7th ring of hell." Questions would set up complicated relationships between objects or people, schedules and sequences. They would go something like this: There are two shifts a day to clean the hotel. No one works on Monday or Friday. No more than two workers clean per shift and no worker can work two straight shifts. If Kathy works the first shift on Tuesday, Sally works the second shift that day. John and Jose always work the same shifts. Margo always works on Saturday. Etc., etc., etc. Then the question would ask what day Constantine worked or something like that. You'd have to construct a little system in your mind, draw it out and try to ascertain relationships. It was grueling. I'm no good at this. After doing this section type over and over and over, I finally got to where I could finish 75 percent of the questions before time ran out. That was as good as it gets.
When I went to Beloit College for the test day, I was nervous. In a good way. I was just edgy enough that I knew I'd be alert and focused. The test rules were draconian. You couldn't bring anything in that remotely resembled an electronic device, including a cell phone, mechanical pencil, digital watch or blank sheet of paper. The things you could bring had to be in a clear Ziploc bag. You had to be fingerprinted before taking the test. It was ridiculous. But I'm sure there are cheaters, so I guess I didn't mind.
I earned a 163, which was in the 88th percentile and my average score on practices. So I knew I did as well as I possibly could. I received the news by email on a Saturday afternoon and was so ecstatic I sent out a text message to everyone I knew. I had to tell somebody in person, so I went out to my neighbor (a lawyer by training) working in his yard and I told him about my score.
I found out some law applicants who scored 162s, 163s were going to retake the test because they were so disappointed with their scores. That thing was so damn hard that I was pleased with my score and overjoyed that I won't ever have to take a hellacious test like it again.
Oh wait, there's the bar exam...