Premonitions of Disaster

In the grand traditions of law school there are moments that are non-negotiable, integral pieces of the experience. One such piece is commencement (graduation, for you heathens out there). Another is law school orientation - typically the week before law school actually starts (1L year, anyway) - during which time they attempt to terrify you and inculcate the idea that law school is the beginning of the rest of your life. In fact, the whole of the terror of 1L year might be called an integral piece of law school.

But I digress, the point is that one of these moments is also during 2L year (as few moments are). Some call it hump day, some call it the half way point, some might even call it when you start seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Though, that might also be when you get a summer associateship. My school's hump day is coming. And on Superbowl weekend no less. Now, you may ask, what does a hump day consist of? Well, like most big events in law school, it involves a celebration. A celebration with all of your closest friends, most despised nemeses, frenemies, etc. This, as many "adult" occasions do, involves the imbibing of alcoholic beverages, and the snacking on of various tiny amounts of foods.

Now, as we all know, the Superbowl in the US is widely know for (1) football, (2) tailgating, (3) beer, (4) nachos, and (5) commercials. Keep in mind that for myself and my fellow 2Ls this is happening the day after hump day. On our hump day, we will be provided with free stuff. If there is anything a law student knows how to do incredibly well, it is take advantage of free stuff. So, basically, a giant party (which usually requires sleep in its wake) followed by a nationwide drinking holiday. On the upside, I live near public transportation, and within walking distance of both of these events. So, no drinking and driving, because that should never happen, kids. Never. In the wise words of my mother, when teaching 16 year old me how to drive, "you are operating a 4000 pound killing machine, don't take that lightly." Comforting words from mom. The following day she forced me to drive for 7 hours to my grandparents house through beginning of weekend traffic in a major city, on one of the largest freeways in the US, with semi trucks merging next to me. Keep in mind that this was before I had mastered either freeways or smooth lane changes. My mother's constant chorus of, "You're drifting! Eyes in direction of movement!" was met with my own internal monologue of, "We're gonna die. We're gonna die. We're gonna die." Fun times.

Certainly this weekend will be both more exhausting and more fun than that. (Though, I will say, I am a much more confident driver for that terrifying experience.) The point is that after this weekend, I hope to have stories of people being a hot mess and general disasters, dear readers. I foresee some general disaster-ness, and hope that you do too.