pardon the whining

finals really, really suck. one of the many reasons is this: finals are not just the period immediately preceding finals and the finals themselves. law school finals encompass a period of weeks, if not months, during which every single thought ends with "I really should be studying right now."

where there's smoke, there's burnout

Some way, some how, I have to spend a certain number of hours on this exercise in masochism I'm told is law school. When that certain number of hours is not met because, say, I want to see my girlfriend and friends and maybe cook a nice meal or two, nights get late and mornings get earlier.

I didn't realize that last night was Daylight Savings Time, and I'm still lamenting the loss of that hour. Talk about a need for perspective - I'm fussing over an hour of my life that I spent sleeping curled up against M (or didn't spend at all - DST gets a little metaphysical for my taste) instead of poring over my Con Law.

If I had a time traveling DeLorean, I'd just bop ahead to next week: Spring fuckin Break.

Cedar attacked another dog. She went berserk. I have to pay more than $700 in vet bills AND deal with my furry little maniac now. She's on a definite Strike One, but I don't know how many she gets until she's out.

It's very difficult to remind myself that this is not a failure on my part, that things like this happen, that I may well have to give her up and it won't entirely be my fault.

My grandfather's health continues to decline - I can't get ahold of my dad, who is in Chicago visiting him, for an update.

If bad things really do come in threes, then I'm going to hope for a disappointment along the lines of the Ducks losing the game on Sunday.

wait...

Not getting a few weeks of vacation at the end of every quarter is going to hurt. I'm already depressed about this. (Some post-trip let-down and illness doesn't really make that any better, but still.)

Alaska in 2 days.

blogging is self-indulgent and that's why i do it.

-INTENSE WHINING ALERT-

Job searching sucks. House hunting sucks. I'm sick of being blown off.

On the plus side, the biking lifestyle is already making some changes to the shape of my calves.

Mother keeps hinting that I could go back to Anchorage. That feels like quitting, and be damned if I'm going to quit one more Big Thing because the going got tough.

Adam arrives on the 17th, and we leave for Montana early on the 20th. I'm looking forward to getting out of my pocket of SE for a little bit and spending some time with Boy.

Bad news from a good friend. Bought smokes, couldn't bring myself to finish a one.

House-sit ends today. I'm losing the beautiful garden and house I'd had all to myself.

Schmoozed with two Mercury writers and a couple of bloggers last night. Not especially fun, although I think I faked it well. Free drinks and food from L helped. Just seeing L helped.

And I am incredibly depressed. The days are long and full of nothing, and I'm too impatient to enjoy them. Wondering vaguely why I ever leave comfortable places.

My last finals week begins today. Asses will be kicked, papers written, beers drunk. Until then, GOD DAMN IT.

inconvenient!

This final set of finals is seriously cutting into my leisure time. I'm trying to finish Absalom, Absalom! over here.

inappropriate use of second person

You know those days where you wake up two hours later than you intended? Then you avoid the real work you have to do (perhaps because you're debilitatingly anxious about a certain thesis defense the next day) by making ANGRY MIX 2007 and making breakfast out of tortillas and stolen peanut butter. Or maybe you try to take a shower with your socks still on. Myspace will probably tell you things you didn't want to know anyway, while insisting that beefcake-y match.com ads are your thing. (Seriously? market research? anyone?)

And do you remember that time you totally danced a kink into your back at Queer Prom? It was worth it, but now you feel about 30 years older than you actually are.

Check it: you've only been awake for 48 minutes. And they're going to dye the bears. BEARS ARE NOT HARD TO IDENTIFY. THEY ARE BEARS.