For me, it hasn't been 6 weeks, it's been about 13 months. My fiance and I hate this city. He has been in line for promotion and subsequent relocation for over a year now. (The stock market stopped the retirement flow out of his company.) We decided that, if I pass the PE exam, that we would move to Florida and he would request transfer or find a new job.
So I wait every day to find out if I passed and if I am finally free of this hell-hole - or - if I will have to suffer through, probably, another 6 months here. I get that, either way, it's my own fault. But the not knowing is just wearing down an already-worn-down girl even more.
That said, I secretly enjoy each day of waiting, because it might be the last day that I even have hope of getting out of here before next year! (If the results are bad news, that is.)