Wednesday, December 17, 2008

In Which I Get a Big Shiny Gold Star

I'm not sure if you've noticed, but law students like to cut ourselves some major slack during finals. In part, it is because this experience is rough- stressful in a way that very few other experiences in our life have been so far.

It's also full-immersion, so there's no going in without going in whole hog, so to speak. All finals, all the time. Especially if, like me, you didn't really "do" the "reading" during the semester. Then it really sucks, and I start to lose it. There's only so many hours a person can spend in the library before you get delusional. Also, dysfunctional.

This is what today looked like:

8:03 am:
Getting dressed, somehow manage to drop a bobby pin in my bra. Lose it. This is perplexing, because I am about as well endowed as a Madoff charity.

8:10 am:
Attempt to apply mascara with wrong end of mascara tube. Epic. Girl. Fail. No more music while getting ready.

9:40 am:
Find bobby pin in library. Resume frantic study pace. Contemplate hiding more things in undergarments, possibly alternate career in smuggling.

10: 15 am:
Go to office. Unwittingly prompt secretary to cry. Try to remedy damage by being consoling. Am not a good consoler.

10: 57 am:
Run in the dean in the hallway. She says: "It's wonderful to see a smiling face! Why are you so happy?"
I reply: "Cookie."
Polysyllables are fun!

1:49 pm:
Running on red bull and popcorn, quickly becoming disenchanted with prior academic delusions of grandeur. Compose email to Roommate regarding my paper status: "oh my god it is just a jumble of words, BUT THEY CAN'T MAKE ME WRITE TRANSITION PARAGRAPHS, ROOMMATE. THEY CAN'T MAKE ME."

3:07 pm:
Seriously consider vacation from reality. Consider talking to the woman creeping in the yellow wallpaper. Start keening for someone who understands this reference, email Funny Mean Friend.

3:28 pm:
In major act of maturity, do not bludgeon library neighbor to death for eating M&Ms too loudly. Pat self on back.

4:01 pm:
FMF does not recommend making friends with the woman in the wallpaper, endorses powering through till Friday for drinking, kitties, and Twilight.
She has a good point.

4:57 pm:
Give up on library, decide to go stark raving mad in comfort of own home. Learn that Sofa the cat's new nickname is "Poopy." I won't tell you why.

Proud moments, all. Now: on to learn the Federal Rules of Evidence! I'll see you kids on the other side.


Amanda said...

Haha! Fantastic! Today, I managed to wear something other than my finals uniform (hooded sweatshirt and old jeans). It felt like a major victory in my life, considering I have one more final tomorrow.
Then I told my mom and she didn't think it was that impressive. "Mom," I said, "it would be if you were a law student."

me said...

I can soooooo relate:

Butterflyfish said...

"Consider talking to the woman creeping in the yellow wallpaper"

AHAHAHAHHAHA one of my favorite short stories.

In it to my eyeballs said...

...FMF does not endorse making friends with the woman in the yellow wallpaper...

Because we can always do that later if booze and teen flicks don't work out.

But I'm sure they will.

Kelly said...

I laughed out loud reading this because it sounded exactly like me during finals (I finished a week ago, thank god). I did some really weird stuff. Like Amanda, I also had a finals uniform of old jeans and my hooded law school sweatshirt. Which I wore every. single. day. My neighbors probably thought I never showered (which may or may not have been partially true).

adele said...

Woman creeping in the yellow wallpaper... were you a lit major in your previous life? :)

I have reached the point of finals where baking cookies seems like a better idea than studying for my last exam. Granted, it won't do anything for my grade, but if I go stark raving mad before the exam, that won't do anything for my grade either, will it?

no634 said...

All that us 1ls have to look forward to...

All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson