Clumps and Mush
It's not that anything in particular happened. Just life. It's like the walls of law school are closing in on me, suffocating me. Like that mouse in the cream jar- the one who gives up and just drowns and then the other one who works and works and works until finally the cream turns into butter and the mouse climbs out? It's like there is something defective with the cream in my jar. I keep working, but there is no butter.
I get a clumps every now and then. Like when someone looks at me and earnestly says, "I don't know how you do it with two kids. I'm by myself and I'm barely making it." They are my clumps. They remind me that law school is hard and we are surviving it.
I'm grateful for the clumps. For the people who ask about my kids, ask how they are doing, ask how my daughter is doing selling the girl scout cookies, for the people who tell me their secrets on how they are getting through law school. When they insist I come upstairs for lunch instead of working through it. They are my clumps.
The mush is when the SAME PERSON IN EVERY SINGLE CLASS has to raise their hand fifteen million times to give an answer/state an opinion. Yes, I think you are fabulous. Yes, you are super nice and I would love to be your friend. Yes, you are incredibly smart and wonderful. No, I honestly don't have anything against you. Truly. But for the love of everything good and holy, could you please, just for once, sit back and let someone else think for just a bloody second before you feel the need to enlighten all 90 of us with your own personal thoughts yetabloodygain????? I mean, seriously!!! Just be quiet!!! For a SECOND!!! You stress me out!! I don't even have time to think because before I get two words in my own head, there you are with your billion dollar answer!!! I honest to God do not understand how in the world you are even able to think up your questions so rapid fire- it's like the prof hasn't even taken a BREATH. You should. You should take a breath. And a pause. I'm just saying. I like you. I reeeeeeeally do. But please. Just once. Just some peace. And it's not even that I don't appreciate what you have to say- because I do. It's just... it would be nice to share the air space. That's all I am saying.
The mush is when my childcare for the summer falls through. And I have to panic to convince my nanny that she loves both me and my children and that she would just loove to cancel all her summer plans so that I can do mine.
Its when I have no idea how the crap I am going to pay this nanny of mine. Oh goody. More loans. Why don't I just sign up to take out a half of a quadrillion dollars. Maybe THAT will cover it.
Its when now I have to frantically apply for internships at the opposite end of the summer.
It's when I have cleaned the bathroom for the fourth time in one week because it is apparently LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE for a four year old little boy to consistently pee in the toilet. I mean, good grief- how big of a bowl do you need??? Like a room???? In his next life, I'm just going to give him a room to pee in. There you go son. Just go wherever. It's all good. If we had a yard, I swear to you I would just let him go outside everyday. I wouldn't even care.
Its when I realize, in the midst of making lunches, and dinners, and helping my daughter with her homework and reminding my son that yes he DOES know how to read and to stop pretending that he doesn't and telling my dog to stop barking at all my neighbors so people don't egg me, that I forgot I have an insanely long research project due in four days.
Its when everyone else has something lined up for the summer and I'm just like, "Hi. I like summer and warm hugs."
Ugh. I need some more clumps.
I get a clumps every now and then. Like when someone looks at me and earnestly says, "I don't know how you do it with two kids. I'm by myself and I'm barely making it." They are my clumps. They remind me that law school is hard and we are surviving it.
I'm grateful for the clumps. For the people who ask about my kids, ask how they are doing, ask how my daughter is doing selling the girl scout cookies, for the people who tell me their secrets on how they are getting through law school. When they insist I come upstairs for lunch instead of working through it. They are my clumps.
The mush is when the SAME PERSON IN EVERY SINGLE CLASS has to raise their hand fifteen million times to give an answer/state an opinion. Yes, I think you are fabulous. Yes, you are super nice and I would love to be your friend. Yes, you are incredibly smart and wonderful. No, I honestly don't have anything against you. Truly. But for the love of everything good and holy, could you please, just for once, sit back and let someone else think for just a bloody second before you feel the need to enlighten all 90 of us with your own personal thoughts yetabloodygain????? I mean, seriously!!! Just be quiet!!! For a SECOND!!! You stress me out!! I don't even have time to think because before I get two words in my own head, there you are with your billion dollar answer!!! I honest to God do not understand how in the world you are even able to think up your questions so rapid fire- it's like the prof hasn't even taken a BREATH. You should. You should take a breath. And a pause. I'm just saying. I like you. I reeeeeeeally do. But please. Just once. Just some peace. And it's not even that I don't appreciate what you have to say- because I do. It's just... it would be nice to share the air space. That's all I am saying.
The mush is when my childcare for the summer falls through. And I have to panic to convince my nanny that she loves both me and my children and that she would just loove to cancel all her summer plans so that I can do mine.
Its when I have no idea how the crap I am going to pay this nanny of mine. Oh goody. More loans. Why don't I just sign up to take out a half of a quadrillion dollars. Maybe THAT will cover it.
Its when now I have to frantically apply for internships at the opposite end of the summer.
It's when I have cleaned the bathroom for the fourth time in one week because it is apparently LITERALLY IMPOSSIBLE for a four year old little boy to consistently pee in the toilet. I mean, good grief- how big of a bowl do you need??? Like a room???? In his next life, I'm just going to give him a room to pee in. There you go son. Just go wherever. It's all good. If we had a yard, I swear to you I would just let him go outside everyday. I wouldn't even care.
Its when I realize, in the midst of making lunches, and dinners, and helping my daughter with her homework and reminding my son that yes he DOES know how to read and to stop pretending that he doesn't and telling my dog to stop barking at all my neighbors so people don't egg me, that I forgot I have an insanely long research project due in four days.
Its when everyone else has something lined up for the summer and I'm just like, "Hi. I like summer and warm hugs."
Ugh. I need some more clumps.
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