I tried this once before, and had limited success, except for the part where I managed to maintain relative sanity (which I consider, to use Borat's words "great success!"). Last time a friend informed me, to my general dismay and alarm, that my blog got passed around my law school (which shall remain unnamed). Needless to say, it immediately got removed from public view for obvious reasons, both legal, personal, professional, and all of the other reasons. Basically just for reasons. However, as those of you who are in law school will understand, there is a need to write, or at least to have some sort of outlet for the utter darkness instilled into our souls and minds by this mildly masochistic endeavor we have embarked upon. (High-o! Check out that alliteration! Suck on that, legal writing!) So, here we are. This is currently taking the place of working on my comment, but that is neither here nor there.
As those of you taking part in this adventure we have dubbed law school will no doubt realize, we have now entered the sad part of the year. Both literally and figuratively. Not only is it the time that SAD (seasonal affective disorder) kicks in for those of us north of 37.5ยบ N Latitude, but it is also the time of law school finals, and holiday shopping. In law school this means that we all burrow into our respective caves, be it the journal office, club office, the truly sad place also known as the library, a coffee shop, or our own apartments, begin to live more or less in our own filth off of popcorn/pizza/soup(for those of you who have a true dedication to your health) or whatever else is readily available, and hunker down until we go cross-eyed from reading and have literally run out of space in our brains into which to cram additional information you may or may not need on your exam. Both terrifying and terrible, right? That it is.
While I realize that this phenomenon is not unique to law school, I'm speaking from my own experience kids, so if the great writers of the last several centuries have taught me nothing, it's that you have to write what you know. Or, in the case of Hemingway, what alcoholism allows you to imagine (not my personal preference, but, hey, it clearly worked for him).
Add to all of this the pressure to find a job (and not be a perpetual student) without resorting to minimum wage retail jobs or using your expensive college degree(s) to become world's most educated barista, and you have a recipe for mental breakdown. And it happens. To multiple people. Every academic period. No joke. People cry in the library, others resort to keeping liquor nearby, a select few truly healthy people become exercise fiends (and god, but how I wish I were one of them), and the rest of us choose to stare blankly and mindless television when our brains short-circuit for the day. Often this means sacrificing truly healthy and balanced eating habits, and the ideally pristine conditions of a living situation. Why is this? Because you're rarely home, and when you get there, all that sounds appealing is dropping onto the bed/couch (sometimes one doubles as the other) in sweatpants until the radiation (it's probably there, right?) from the TV effectively fries the headache that was brewing since your 10:30 AM class...or since you dragged your butt to a marathon outlining session.
Combine this with the horrifying realization that you CHOSE this path. Not only did you choose it over seeking out a paying job, some people left paying jobs, and now we're all either too in debt or too far invested or both to back out. That is what we did. Let that sink in for a second. Maybe scream into a pillow or throw a casebook off your desk. Feel better? Yeah, me too. But, take heart, friends. If we've made it this far, we can keep on going. Remember everyone else (except those scary smart people we shan't be discussing here) feels the same way. Take breaks on the weekends to talk to real people. Remember those? I know they're a rare occurrence in this people-zoo we call law school, but seek them out. Don't forget them. They keep you tied back to reality and sanity. Maybe take up guitar? I don't know. I'm not musical and have short fingers. That sounded weird, but whatever. Or write. Clearly that's my choice. Pour what's left of your soul after contracts and torts gets done with you into something that makes you remember why you're here in the first place.
Oh, and drink good coffee, and eat baked goods. If you don't like baked goods there might be no hope for you. Sorry.
No comments:
Post a Comment