Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Just What Every Little Girl Dreams Of

I'm trudging through the law school exhausted today, because I couldn't sleep last night. Why, you ask? Well, gentle reader, I shall tell you.

I couldn't sleep because I had a law school nightmare.*

Last night, I dreamt that I had a Very Serious Important Project due, and I couldn't, for the life of me, find the sources that I needed. I was frantically perusing Westlaw,** working myself into a holy panic- you know, the usual. This, in itself, is not much to lose sleep over. The thing that troubled me in this dream, however, was that I was on a very, very tight schedule, because I was getting married. In 3 days.***

Moreover, I was particularly upset about planning this wedding because I had to do it entirely on Westlaw. On some level, my mind must have done the following calculus: Westlaw has everything, therefore, Westlaw has bridesmaid dresses, therefore, a wedding can be planned on Westlaw. The result of this reasoning was that, in my sick head, computer screens flashed before my eyes as I pounded my desk in frustration. Where was the database for caterers?! Shouldn't "brid! /s (shoe or foot!) /25 "sparkle"" turn up something to wear on my feet? What would be an appropriate natural language search for "something borrowed, something blue"? Are officants listed in the professional directories?

In between these dream-freakouts, I would ponder the impossiblity. Why had I waited so long to plan this? How was I going to get done by my deadline? Basically, an identical freakout to every time I've had something due in law school- the combination of "oh crap I'm never going to get it done" combined with the illogical conviction that, yes, I may have procrastinated, but I'm going to get away with it. Again.

It was all so vivid that even in my dream, I was able to overlook the lunacy of it all. Until this morning, when I stared at the ceiling and thought: "Why would I be looking for orange taffeta, anyway?"

I may be losing my mind.

Lesson learned: I need to get out more. A lot more. And FYI, Westlaw does not, in fact, have everything.





*What's that you say? Every waking moment here is a nightmare? Touche. But that's not what meant.

**Dear sole non-law reader: Westlaw is a legal database. In law school, they give us lots of free things to use their services. Then, when we graduate, they charge us through the nose for them.


***Chill out, Internet. I'm not getting married.

7 comments:

Molly said...

Wow, that sounds like a terrifying dream.

Especially the marriage part.

adele said...

Oh heavens. And I thought the anxiety dreams in which I wrestled with printers and dead laptops were bad.

ImNobody said...

I am slightly suspicious that I may have accidentally sold my soul to Westlaw, or something?

There must be an explanation. I better be getting a lot of Westlaw Rewards for this.

Laughing said...

I laughed so hard at this that I cried. Not to find joy in your pain - but this is a fucking hiiiiiilarious story, especially the terms & connectors. At least you can laugh at your anxiety dreams.

je said...

oh my god. this is amazing. seeing as how i am supposedly getting married this august and we have done 0 (read: zero) planning, and seeing as how i actually remarked to about five people today that i have no idea how i'll plan a wedding when i am so busy trying to find a summer job and not fail con law, i think you just came up with the PERFECT solution! well. near perfect. i prefer Lexis.

Ryan (LWM) said...

I had a dream that I slept with a coworker, but we didn't "do" anything. Then it was all awkward the next day. I can't figure out if it was because we slept together or because we didn't get down...Your thing sounds a lot scarier, though.

navah said...

Holy crap was this funny. The terms and connectors had me and my girlfriend cracking up. I could barely finish reading it aloud. Thanks for the laugh...

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