I have a lot of formal education under my belt. I’ve learned a lot of things in my life. And I have taken more exams than I could ever count. So, I’ve studied a lot in my lifetime.

I’ve never gone to bed with the textbook.

Until now.

Ok, that’s not really the textbook. Like all of the really important exams in my life (and those I can count), there’s not really a single text to guide me through it. There’s things that can help directly, and plenty of self-guided study.

My family of birth has, rightly, commented on my ability to leave a trail in life. They aren’t talking about a trail of broken hearts or a trail of bread crumbs or a trail of bodies or a trail of admirers. They’re talking about a trail of random-ass items that can only relate to me.

It is one of my worst habits, and has been since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. And, as you can see, that trail right now is beer-themed.

The coffee table. The bedside. The living room chair. The dining room table. The fridge.

Yes, the fridge.

At this point, the exam is under three weeks away. And I feel like I know nothing. It’s not true; I was able to answer my new friend Amanda’s question about what causes papery flavors. I know, even though I don’t believe myself, what a German pilsner should taste like.

I’m still terrified I won’t pass.

There’s not as much on the line as there has been in my past. It’s not like I’m going to be kicked out of beer school if I fail the Certified Cicerone exam twice (yes, that’s how graduate school worked the places I went). But it’s the same feeling of doom and terror. Probably because time is at stake. So much time.

I can’t tell you how long I have been interested in this program/certification. I can tell you I’ve been interested in it since I first heard of it. And I can tell you who first told me about it (thank you, Anna!) and I can even tell you where, exactly, I was standing when she told me (in Goose Clybourn, of course).

I think this was in 2009, but I am not sure. By 2011, definitely. And 15 October 2015, I go try my hand at it. And if I fail, I either have to haul my ass to a whole other city to try again, or wait until next March.

Time. So much time.

So there’s a trail of study guides. And a really, really, really patient husband. A new friend and study buddy (thanks, Amanda!). A plan to try these beers with folks from my apartment complex tomorrow. A plan to go to a new beloved brewery (of course) again soon. A plan to try to find friendly bartenders with enough taps to quiz me, or enough rotation through a few taps for the same result.

Please cross your fingers for me. And, if you can get a hold of a nice citrusy, crisp saison, pair it in my honor with a caprese salad containing faintly garlicy olive oil and a really thick balsamic reduction.

(I may have been studying pairing last night, both accidentally and intentionally. The reduction makes this pairing.)