Archive
The Things We Wait For
Every semester for the last two years I’ve printed the 1L xxxx School of Law course schedule and kept it tucked inside a notebook hidden in my purse. I’ve been carrying it around as if the schedule were my own, praying that one day it would be.
In a life which I’ve devoted the better part of to raising a family, my hopes to pursue a law degree has been a secret desire buried twenty years beneath the daily conundrum of kids’ science projects, football practices, mortgage payments, the ups and downs of my husband’s business, and my own nine to five job. When you spend that much time folding laundry and refereeing sibling rivalry attempting law school seems more like a pipe dream and less than a reality. Perhaps even more restrictive of this law school fantasy of mine was that bachelor’s degree I lacked but required if my aspirations were to become anything more than an unsettled yearning in my chest. Read more…
Exhaustion
I’m not a morning person, never have been. In fact, I have a love hate relationship with my snooze button. I need her, rely on her, religiously check on her just in case, but every morning I blindly smack her quiet for that luxurious ten more minutes of sleep. Who am I kidding? I set her for 6:30, but shush her half a dozen times before my husband has to coerce me out of bed with coffee at 7. And that’s on a good day.
The worse days entail me waking up to my fourteen year old standing above me citing I have fifteen minutes to get dressed and out the door. Better believe I’ve long since given up fixing my face and hair unless I can work that in while I warm up the car. I usually focus on just trying not to wear the same outfit two days in a row and some weeks I don’t even manage that. Read more…
I think I’m in love
That 1L Torts class last night was…fascinating. I’m in love. A regular dreamy eyed undergrad anxiously awaiting her first year of law classes. Now, on to devoting the next year to preparing for the LSATs. Pray for me. I need it.
By the way, I did manage not to pee myself.
As an added bonus, I’ve discovered male law school students are hot. Either that or I’ve suddenly given everything and anything that has to do with law school instant credibility or more credit than might actually be due.
Whatever, I thought those older male law school students were hot. I hope they still look like that when I attend (or rather if I get to attend – did I already ask you to pray for me?).
Trying not to pee myself
I am leaving in 30 minutes for St. Mary’s Law School and I would like nothing more than to hurl, but I have nothing in my tummy to regurgitate since I’m so nervous I haven’t eaten anything all morning.
I’m like the too excited kid waiting to go to the circus afterschool; completely anxious and useless. Add to that scared. I will be sitting in for the entire 1L Torts class.
I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it has something to do with finally getting a taste, if only just a taste, of what I’ve wanted for such a long time. Maybe it’s the idea that I have the opportunity to make my dreams a reality if I can just keep my sh*t together. Or maybe it’s because I’ve actually decided to rant this, to say it out loud, laying my heart on the line and making myself vulnerable to my critics. Yup, I think that’s the winning answer.
Did I already mention I want to hurl? I act like I’m actually interviewing, or getting accepted, something more than just meeting with the Director of Recruitment and sitting in a class, but still, I’m so excited I’m trying not to pee myself.
Why I write comical satire
Wouldn’t all the crap in my life be experienced in vain if I couldn’t share my family’s dysfunction with others so that they, in turn, might gain some consolation in knowing at least their lives don’t exceed the lunacy I encounter everyday?
Pipe dreams
This has been a real clusterf*@k of a week. Sunday I wanted to cry, Monday I did, Tuesday seemed hopeful, Wednesday I was spent, and today’s only Thursday.
These are the bad days, my low points. All the things I want for myself seem ridiculously out of reach and I get to thinking, ‘Who the hell am I kidding? I ain’t never gonna’ be more than what I am right now. Everything else…is just a pipe dream.’
Weeks this crazy I worry I’m not seeing enough of my kids. So sometimes when I get home late from class I tell them to sleep in my room, all four of them. It seems silly, but I just like to hear them breathing while they sleep. It’s comforting knowing I’m breathing in the same air as they are, it reminds me why I keep those pipe dreams.
Rolling credits for the night…
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3mQnhZMJMNo&feature=related
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