Today is the second day of the July administration of the bar examination, a test given twice per year at the same time in every state and the District of Columbia. It has been nine years since I sat through the marathon exam in a freezing convention center on the North Carolina state fairgrounds. I don’t have any memories of the contents of the test itself and have had little reason to reflect on the experience in the intervening years. I studied intensely for a few months for a pass/fail test and I passed. Onto the next thing.

This year, though, I’ve observed one of the members of my church small group go through his own preparations for the exam. He was one of two members of the group who finished law school this spring so I was also able to watch their final year of law school—it seemed more pleasant than mine with less acrimony and fewer protests. He went through a more regimented exam preparation course than I did so he spoke in terms of percentages as his studying progressed. He also took several more practice exams than I recall taking. In the final week before I took the test, I stayed in a writer’s cabin sort of place outside Boone to get away from things and be sure I’d be relaxed going into the mental marathon. He largely stayed at home for his preparation.

I asked for and received regular updates about his studying progress. It’s not that he needed any accountability from me; I just wanted to feel helpful. As the exam grew closer, I talked less about studying and more about logistics. Bring a jacket. Don’t run out of snacks. Those are the things that can move the needle after months of studying. Another quirk of the rule against perpetuities probably won’t. Yes, that rule is a real thing. No, I’ve not had to worry about it since the bar exam. And I can say the same about almost everything else I crammed into my brain that spring and early summer.