I sat down with a practice exam, a permitted calculator, and the confidence of a woman who once reconciled a brokerage statement by hand. Forty minutes later I was humble and slightly sweaty. This material is deep water and I am wading with enthusiasm.
I am studying because I want to understand markets the way I understand a seating chart—structure beneath the social surface. I am not your advisor. I am a student with highlighter ink on my fingers and a sticky note that says compound interest is patient.
Getting a question wrong still stings like a bad Yelp review of my own brain. Then I review the explanation, make flashcards, and tell my wife I need the kitchen table for one more hour. She brings tea. That is support.
If you are learning something hard at an age when people think you should be done, keep going. The exam does not care how old you are. Neither do I.