3L
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Whiling Away the Day
The cat is sleeping in a pile of clothes. Clean clothes, formerly folded, but now kneaded into a kitty nest for her. In the next room, pictures of her as a new kitten are popping up as the screensaver on the old laptop that I put out for Jack to play with while the Professor and I work on our own laptops, while the Saints play on tv in the background, while Jack ignores his laptop toy and instead combs my hair with a fork while I try to work, while Liam slumbers in his crib. While While While – in any sentence in which I describe our lives right…
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Journal Woes
I’ve been editing an article for my school’s journal. It . . . isn’t an awesome experience. It involves lots of late nights (early mornings, to be technical), getting cozy with the Bluebook (a 400 page style manual for legal citations that is COMPLETELY RIDICULOUS in its scope and size). I am dreaming about legal citations. 3L is kind of like a forced march in a circle. You have to do it, but it has no point, and essentially you end up at the same point in which you started – just a full year older. With an eye toward the stress-fest that is to come (i.e. being a first…
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August
August is a month in which I have accomplished pretty much zero. It’s dumb when you pay nearly a grand for your baby to go to a babysitter, but you still get nothing done because you have to watch your preschooler because his stupid school doesn’t start until like four weeks after every other school in the city starts, ARGH. I’d have liked to have delayed the babysitter by a month, but she has to pay her bills, and she would have had to find somebody else for that slot, leaving us babysitter-less, so there goes a grand on essentially nothing. (Not nothing. It’s been a useful period of adjustment…
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My Sons’ Hometown
Take a United States map. Place your index finger at the tip of Florida, and then, moving northerly and to the west, trace the Gulf-side border of the state. You’ll trail your pointer finger along a series of coastal cities: Naples, Cape Coral, Sarasota (a place to which I once seriously considered moving, before settling on Chapel Hill, North Carolina instead). You’ll encounter St. Petersburg and Tampa, nestled on either side of Tampa Bay, then Clearwater and Spring Hill, and then follow the relatively undeveloped coastal section the hugs the “armpit” of the state, before reaching Panama City and Pensacola in the panhandle. Following a little more slowly now, your…
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Counting Down the Days
I’ve been away from the boys for seven weeks, excluding a couple of weekend visits. One week remains of my summer job here in Mo-town, and then we’ll be reunited. At which point, my husband will be leaving for the bulk of July, off to defend his dissertation. It’s only fair that he get his bachelor time, after I’ve had mine. I know he’ll enjoy it – it’s good to have a minute or two to yourself . . . to go to sleep at night knowing you won’t be awake until THE NEXT MORNING, oh glorious day! . . . to only have to worry about feeding your own…