Law school prom is coming up, and so I needed a new dress. I ended up rocking my junior year high school Homecoming dress last year, but this year I figured I’d wear an actual grown-up dress. So I ordered this really cute dress from anthropologie, and it came in the mail today. I immediately put it on because 1) I wanted to make sure it fit and 2) I get overly excited about new clothes.
After I was satisfied that it both fit and was sufficiently cute, I tried to take it off. And promptly jammed the zipper. The zipper ran up the back of the dress, so I couldn’t see it. The zipper was also stuck in just that place between your shoulder blades that nearly impossible to reach. I couldn’t slip out of the dress, nor could I turn it around to get the zipper in the front. After a few minutes, I was about ready to put on my shoes & walk down to the front desk to ask the doorman for help, but, as luck would have it, the zipper became free.
“Hey … didn’t I used to see you at the jail around visitin’ time?”
1. My family inexplicably is using a pineapple as a Christmas centerpiece.
2. At 3:15 p.m., my dad says to me, “Well, how about a martini?”
This semester is over. Finally. I think I finally stand a shot at regaining my sanity. But, hell, who knows, it may be another three semesters before I get that back. Or maybe it’s just too far gone. Either way, I can safely say I get a chance to breathe again.
Ok, to be quite technical, I still have to turn in one more draft of my comment to say this semester is really in the bag. My comment isn’t due until the end of the month, though, and I have very minimal work to do on it, so I’m considering it done. And it’s been an eventful full week. I studied until I thought I was going to go blind on Sunday and Monday, I finished up my 24-hour take home exam on Tuesday (3-hour final my ass! That thing took me literally all day), I had my last day in court on Wednesday (traumatic — my attorney was late and the judge started without her), I abused my body with a work happy hour, pre-party, and bar review on Thursday (and lost my bar coat in the process), and I reorganized my apartment furniture on Friday (only to move it all back — I decided trying to get my bed away from the wall next to the crazy neighbor wasn’t worth having an awkward furniture arrangement).
This morning I left my apartment at 6:30 a.m. to make the 8:00 a.m. to my hometown. I could launch into another diatribe about Amtrak but I won’t. I’ll just say all three self-service machines were broken and let you draw your own conclusions about the madhouse that was Union Station this morning. We were past LaGrange before I managed to get my first (and desperately needed) cup of coffee — after waiting in line behind a ton of people who were ordering both those damn pre-made breakfast sandwiches that the guy had to microwave individually and Miller High Lifes (in cans, no less — and at 9:00 a.m.).
But I finally made it home. And I got to go get lunch at my favorite restaurant and have the tasty salad with buckwheat noodles & edamame & peanut dressing. (And I’ve really been craving edamame, which I could not make because I melted my colander trying to fake-steam some broccoli.) And then I got to go to the organic grocery store where I found that vegan mozzerella I really like. And then I helped Mom make vegetarian Mexican casserole for our fake Christmas dinner tonight. And now … I’m just sitting by the Christmas tree (which is fake but my mom has been spraying it repeatedly with this fake pine scent so it has … a scent) with my dog. Life is good.
Do I have to go back to school?
I walked into a meeting with my professor and she exclaimed, “I love your boots! Where did you get them? I might have to get some for myself.”
I don’t feel well. Apparently that correlates with me being an irritable bitch. I’ve been irrationally competitive in bus lines today and I stopped mid-cross in the middle of Michigan Avenue to yell at a cab driver who honked at me. I was a little too aggressive with a classmate who gave a presentation on his personal (ridiculously ludicrous) theory of remedying the adversarial system in our country.
And my crowning achievement? I body-checked a tourist.
The only thing more mind-numbing that spending an afternoon writing “no time for file review” on bluebacks in file jackets is writing an entry in my government practicum journal about it.
This does not bode well for my grade in that class.