I may have had a total wig out meltdown about two weeks ago and decided I wasn’t taking the Bar. I talked to several friends and my family about it and all were “supportive.” By supportive I mean, I could tell they didn’t agree with my decision but didn’t want to piss me off. Valid. But, one of my lovely friends from college was not supportive. She was.. quiet. She’s also one of the few that knows what this is and how hard I have worked to get here.
As much as I like to march to my own tune, I knew. I knew I couldn’t just give up and say eff this and bow out. I talked to my Bar prep professor and he wasn’t so worried about pissing me off. After a half an hour conversation where the word idiot was used extensively, I am back in the trenches.
I am tired. Stamina is harder this time around. Get up and go is harder. This is actually one of the reasons for my freak out meltdown. I don’t have the oomph that I had last time, but I am getting there. The fear is kicking in, the drive is kicking in.
January is a tough month, even for those of us blessed with the endless sunshine of Southern California. It feels flat and lifeless after the joy and busyness of the holidays.
I have been watching too many dark TV shows, but I can’t help it, I get addicted. I am trying to balance it out with sitcoms and I have been exposed to a few new ones thanks to my friends (recommendations are always welcome). I know that I am confirming all that is disappointing about this generation, but, man, does binge watching TV feel good.
I am in it for the long haul, dirty hair and all – so much for not being a hot mess this time around.
Photo by me, of my old elementary school. Something about it…