This blog is not intended to provide legal advice, legal services or legal anything else. Don't sue me. All I have is debt anyway.

Thursday, July 16, 2009


I know Husband has earned his leisurely summer vacation. Since he finished his clinicals the first week of June, he only has to work 25 hours per week, which is only two shifts (he works 2 days of the weekend, but gets paid for 40 hours, since he works every weekend). However, he believes if he does one thing a day (i.e. make dinner, mow the lawn, or wash dishes), he's been immensely productive. Now, I don't actually care that Husband doesn't do much of anything productive all day. Frankly, I told him we should hire a lawn boy, because I sure don't want to mow the lawn, I'm allergic to it, so why should he have to do it. Also, once this bar nonsense is over, I will be the laziest person on the planet every weekend, for like, the rest of my life. (Much like I enjoy gluttony, sloth is also one of my favorite sins.) He's got a ton of laundry thrown around on his side of the room, clean, dirty, you name it. He's got a long list of things he "should" be doing. But he doesn't. And I don't care. I'm definitely not a neat-freak. As long as it isn't disgusting and/or smelly (or dangerous to the kid), it can sit there and gather dust for all eternity, I don't care. I'm sure not gonna clean it, unless absolutely necessary.

But for right now, it makes me incredibly bitter, since I spent the day studying Real Property, Admin, Torts and [I'm about to start] Secured Transactions and he spent the day watching MY favorite film noir. Grrr. I want to set fire to my bar materials (and the bar exam itself), and watch some film noir too. Have a breakfast beer. Take a long afternoon nap. Waste my days away playing video games, then leave him with a pissed off toddler an hour before bedtime to go hang out with my friends. It's incredibly unfair. But his time's coming. He'll have boards to study for next summer. And I plan on sitting around the house, in my underwear, surrounded by empty beer bottles, my feet propped up on the table, and watching all of his favorite TV shows, while he's holed up in the poorly-lit den memorizing a bunch of obscure crap.

Anyway, I was also sad to find out a good friend of mine didn't get the job she really wanted with a state supreme court justice. She was an excellent candidate for the job, she's in the top 15%, on journal, had a note published, and one of her professors was a former state supreme court justice who even phoned this justice on her behalf to give her a recommendation (she got an A+ in his class). Still no go. Who knows who actually got the job, but I can't imagine anyone more deserving. So, that sucks. And to find out two weeks before the bar sucks even more. Yeah, this economy sucks. I'm very lucky to have my job, even if I did have to move two hours away to take it. I guess I should stop bitching about the bar exam and study some more so I can pass the thing, keep my job, and, you know, like, practice law someday. (It doesn't make me any less bitter, however.)

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