Finals are impending.
This is a sickening and somewhat ludicrous thought, as, in real time, they are still well over a month away. In law school time, that means that the panic clock starts ticking…NOW. Already, the volume of people in the library has doubled (while the volume of irritating nervous tics in the library has inexplicably quadrupled). Headphones have some out, highlighters are being shaken with increasing urgency, and the smell of fear wafts over the stacks.
At least, that’s my take on it.
As we’re all terrified little 1Ls, the group panic mentality is somewhat difficult to control, so we scurry around from place to place in a constant state of anxiety. The upperclassmen have been watching the finals/job search process progress for us with a certain amount of bemused interest. Having lived to tell the tale (as well as the tale of all those who didn’t cut it and dropped out), they have a mixed reaction to our class. We are boozier and more offensive than they might have hoped, but mostly pleasant, I think.
To the extent that the 2Ls acknowledge our existence without eye rolling (girls) and ass-checking out (guys), they tend to fall into two camps: Helpful Henries (enough said), and Harbingers of Doom. Helpful Henries are great, of course- Harbingers of Doom are hysterical, when they’re not terrifying. I ran into one of the latter in the library today, who informed me that my first final would be “the worst experience of your life…until you take CrimProf’s test. No really. You might fail...Just be ready for that.”
Since his statement voiced my internal monologue anyway, I didn’t find this terribly edifying.
He wandered off to go do whatever it is 2L’s do with their day, and I resumed blankly staring at my Civil Procedure reading. Slightly shaken, I reminded myself that I was at least as capable as a man who made the conscious decision to wear an actual Hawaiian shirt and molester sunglasses into the library, and passed him by with a smile. I may be frightened, but at least I don’t look like I’ve had a bad run-in with a midlife crisis and a used car lot.
There is always an upside.
In the meantime, the library is starting to smell like unwashed law student, and it’s not even Thanksgiving yet. Let the fun begin!