Finishing law school…

Means driving across LA, with a yowling cat, by yourself.  But this time, I discovered the secret.  I put him in my lap and sang Suit & Tie to him all the way home.  He tucked his little nose in my elbow and pretended like the freeway didn’t exist.  I would like to thank JT for the help he provided in calming Stormy down.

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Finishing law school means moving away from some fucking awesome roommates.  And no, having roommates never meant I got divorced. Thanks everyone for making me feel like a married freak with roommates. Whatever.  It was fun to pretend to be sisterwives.

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It means moving back in with your parents.  This house now includes four cats (none of which like each other) and six humans (who mostly like each other).  I waiver back and forth between being very pleased and very nervous.  Living with my family is generally pretty awesome.  But my family mixed in with the Bar..

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Means… the Bar.  Bar study, full time.  I have spent a good seven hours this weekend studying.  Which is nearly nothing compared to what I am going to have to do soon, but if you consider that this weekend I also moved across LA County, celebrated Mother’s Day and landed myself in the ER, then seven hours seems pretty legit.

It means continuously clicking refresh, hoping for grades.  Please let me have passed everything. Note this is not titled “Graduating law school..”

And finally, for me, finishing law school means a trip to the ER for “just a virus.”  Thanks body, I appreciate it greatly.  If I could not sound like a frog by graduation day, that would be cool.

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