I Blame the Bar

17 Jul

Ridiculous things/thoughts inspired by studying for the bar:
– I think a wisdom tooth is coming in. I’m 26. Aren’t I a little old to be teething? πŸ˜› I blame the stress from studying for the bar. It is clearly causing mutations.
– Today, Jonathan is running really late getting home… for about five minutes (before, thankfully, he called me to tell me about his hijinks) I literally entertained the “what if he’s dead?” thought (which is a natural thought process when you are a touch paranoid like I am) and the thought process went something like this, “How do I tell his Mom we can’t have the funeral until NEXT Friday so that I can sit for the bar first?”
– I crave caffeine and starbucks in ways I never have before. I also blame this on the bar and attribute it to clearly a mutation.
– And exercise. I crave exercise constantly. Probably from spending too many hours hunched in front of stacks of books.
– But seriously, if Jonathan (god forbid) did die, I would take my books to jeff city, extend my hotel room, and hole up, study, and sit for the bar. (He told me on the phone that that’s exactly what he would want me to do. Good law-student’s husband, for understanding instead of being offended.)
– I got birchbox and it is awesome!
– That last thought had NOTHING to do with the bar πŸ™‚
– When I hear conversations (especially at starbucks), I mentally try to figure out which MBE subject would fit best, and how to analyze it. This has resulted in my friends being both irritated and entertained by me. Because of course I have to share.
– I am so ready for this to be over (clearly).
– I wonder if I feel like I am not working hard enough because I am a slacker or if I feel like I am not working hard enough because I have really high expectations for myself that are not even close to being meetable. I hope that I’m somewhere in between and solidly in a passing zone.
– I should go to bed so I can get up early and hit starbucks, gym, starbucks,lawschool,home, biking, home tomorrow.
– Jonathan is signed up (and by signed up, I mean, as the husband of a bar candidate he is REQUIRED) to help me cram-study-memorize all day on Saturday and Sunday. Maybe by Sunday night he will WISH he had atleast pretended to be dead until after the bar πŸ˜›

This will probably be my last post until after the bar, so for any of my fellow bar-sitters… GOOD LUCK! πŸ™‚

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