Law School
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Halcyon Days
Having just paid approximately the value of one month’s utility bills in order to eat grease-covered vegetables at the undergraduate student center, I am now whiling away the last few seconds of my laptop battery, watching the kids toss footballs in the field outside, contemplating whether it would be a truly HEINOUS diet sin to go and refill my root beer. I was too busy to go to the grocery since we’ve returned from our trip, otherwise I’d have packed a lunch. As it is, I’m wasting money and time, both too precious, to hike over to this building from the law school and consume an overpriced, undernourishing lunch, and…
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Allow Me to Indulge in a Rant, If You Would
I have less than an hour before I have to leave to pick up my child, and I declare defeat. To attempt to work on my research in this small window of time is foolish. I would just get going, several brower windows open, my mind reoriented to where I left off, and then bang – the clock would tell me it was time to shut it all down and go. Last time I tried to actually accomplish something on a Monday or a Wednesday morning, I ended up running full tilt down Saint Charles Avenue in flip flops, my two backpacks (one full of books, one full of breast…
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Back in the Black
I read a blog post on Shakespeare written by a friend of mine who went to the same graduate school as I did – the Shakespeare Annex in Stratford-upon-Avon – and suddenly I wanted to drop this law school lark and go get my doctorate in Shakespeare. Perhaps I can be a student forever! I would have loved a PhD in Shakespeare. However, what does one do with such a thing? And when I was getting my MA years ago, I was borrowing American Dollars to live in a British Pounds Sterling economy – in other words, every dollar I borrowed was worth half a pound, and that wouldn’t even…
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Plop
I keeled over. I am the Maritime Journal’s bitch. My eyes are red, my head is swimming, and I’m 81 footnotes into a 212-footnote article edit. BLARG. I’ll be glad when it’s tomorrow, and this is done.
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Does My Butt Look Big in These Pants?
The ones whose seat I am flying by the . . . seat . . . of . . . um. So I was thinking about that expression today on a long car trip back from another family mini vaca (this time to my parents’ place in TN). Why do we say this? Flying by the seat of ou pants? Does it mean I’m being dragged along by some invisible forces plucking at my back pockets? Have I been hefted up by the hindquarters and tossed? That’s sort of how I feel since this baby’s been born. As I am dragged from day to day, things get done, but lord…