How I learned to stop Worrying and Love the Hurricane
Ahh hear that? That is the sound of relaxiation and a grilled cheese. I have had classes cancelled since last thursday till tomorrow, and I am soaking in every drop or chilled goodness.
But lets set the stage.
It had been 3 weeks or so since a real post.
I will say two things about Law School at the end of week 8.
1) It is hard, but managable; and
2) It is like getting hit in the face with a wrench and trying to remember the serial number.
Sounds like fun yes?
Actually it can be, but then again I have not had the pleasure of sitting through finals yet, so my perspective very well may change.
A routine begins to set in after week 2. Days go by on an almost methodical clip. You know when you wake up everyday you are going to be confused at least once that day, and you will somehow find a glimmer of hope by talking to some other poor soul in class that you think you are doing better than.
This continues till about week 7.
At this point another wave of panic is beginning to invade the classes psyche. Some people are already hitting the wall. You actually take comfort in this because hey, it is not you, and you seem to be doing ok. You are very confused as to what to remember and what do you don't. Your legal research and writing is starting to pick up the pace sending your schedule into a funk. A professor may give a practice test to make everyone feel that they are doing ok, but the reverse is true, and everyone feels as if they are the stupidest people on the planet.
And then hell comes from the Sea.
Hurricane Rita, a catagorey 5 at the time, was barreling down on Houston like a pack of wild dogs. People from the south were already under evacuation, and we are sitting in Civil Procedure doing nothing, but thinking how to file a 12 b 6 against the hurricane when all of a sudden an email crosses computers like the hand of God saying classes are cancelled for the remainder of the week, and for us to evacuate.
At this point, to describe how warped the reality of a law students reality is, we all rejoice as to not have class for 2 days, and not even give a thought as to the destruction very well could be in our future. Quickly margaRITA parties are being planned, and you can almost hear the tops of beers being popped in class.
I for one decided that I would finish my work for the next class peirod like a good law student I am (yeah so that part is bull shit), and evacuate to College Station for some rest, a football game, and plenty of undergraduate booze to go around.
I wake up the next morning at 5:30am to "Get a jump" on the traffic, but much to my dismay traffic never stopped, and I had to board up my house with ply wood anyway. Once I hit the road I began to get creative. This was the biggest traffic jam in US history. It went on for 100 miles and would last for over 14 hours on the road to go less than 100 miles. I chose to brave Hwy 290, which i was only on for about 1 mile because i just couldn't stand it. I ended up on the back roads without a map and only the sun to guide me. Somehow, i was dumped 30 miles South of College Station in only a mere 4 hours. The average time it was taking people was 8 hours, and the usual time was 1 hour and 20 min. None the less i felt good about life and felt I accomplished something.
The rest of the weekend consisted of booze and fun, and not a soul asked me what substantail certaintiy meant. I was drunk and happy for many days.
I came home as of yesterday, knowing that my utopia could not last, and began to study a bit here and there.
I got a little mad at the hurricane for a little while because I was caught up with all my stuff, but people that were not had a chance to catch up. I however later decided that I got a much needed vacation and they had to spend it studin. So i felt better. I belive I may have held off a psychotic episode for at least another few weeks.
Now, I am just outlining a bit, reading over some stuff, and watching Fox News. I fell good, I feel happy, and I know that the semester is half over.
Here's to my last moment of sanity.
But lets set the stage.
It had been 3 weeks or so since a real post.
I will say two things about Law School at the end of week 8.
1) It is hard, but managable; and
2) It is like getting hit in the face with a wrench and trying to remember the serial number.
Sounds like fun yes?
Actually it can be, but then again I have not had the pleasure of sitting through finals yet, so my perspective very well may change.
A routine begins to set in after week 2. Days go by on an almost methodical clip. You know when you wake up everyday you are going to be confused at least once that day, and you will somehow find a glimmer of hope by talking to some other poor soul in class that you think you are doing better than.
This continues till about week 7.
At this point another wave of panic is beginning to invade the classes psyche. Some people are already hitting the wall. You actually take comfort in this because hey, it is not you, and you seem to be doing ok. You are very confused as to what to remember and what do you don't. Your legal research and writing is starting to pick up the pace sending your schedule into a funk. A professor may give a practice test to make everyone feel that they are doing ok, but the reverse is true, and everyone feels as if they are the stupidest people on the planet.
And then hell comes from the Sea.
Hurricane Rita, a catagorey 5 at the time, was barreling down on Houston like a pack of wild dogs. People from the south were already under evacuation, and we are sitting in Civil Procedure doing nothing, but thinking how to file a 12 b 6 against the hurricane when all of a sudden an email crosses computers like the hand of God saying classes are cancelled for the remainder of the week, and for us to evacuate.
At this point, to describe how warped the reality of a law students reality is, we all rejoice as to not have class for 2 days, and not even give a thought as to the destruction very well could be in our future. Quickly margaRITA parties are being planned, and you can almost hear the tops of beers being popped in class.
I for one decided that I would finish my work for the next class peirod like a good law student I am (yeah so that part is bull shit), and evacuate to College Station for some rest, a football game, and plenty of undergraduate booze to go around.
I wake up the next morning at 5:30am to "Get a jump" on the traffic, but much to my dismay traffic never stopped, and I had to board up my house with ply wood anyway. Once I hit the road I began to get creative. This was the biggest traffic jam in US history. It went on for 100 miles and would last for over 14 hours on the road to go less than 100 miles. I chose to brave Hwy 290, which i was only on for about 1 mile because i just couldn't stand it. I ended up on the back roads without a map and only the sun to guide me. Somehow, i was dumped 30 miles South of College Station in only a mere 4 hours. The average time it was taking people was 8 hours, and the usual time was 1 hour and 20 min. None the less i felt good about life and felt I accomplished something.
The rest of the weekend consisted of booze and fun, and not a soul asked me what substantail certaintiy meant. I was drunk and happy for many days.
I came home as of yesterday, knowing that my utopia could not last, and began to study a bit here and there.
I got a little mad at the hurricane for a little while because I was caught up with all my stuff, but people that were not had a chance to catch up. I however later decided that I got a much needed vacation and they had to spend it studin. So i felt better. I belive I may have held off a psychotic episode for at least another few weeks.
Now, I am just outlining a bit, reading over some stuff, and watching Fox News. I fell good, I feel happy, and I know that the semester is half over.
Here's to my last moment of sanity.
posted by BootStraps at 3:04 PM
1 comments
