These Beasts

I 'm moving again soon and hoping that in some strange way, a new apartment will change my world. I'll keep up with my dishes, not go out when I shouldn't, sit up straight on my wooden chair for days hovering over law work.

Poor little apartment. It doesn't know it's a cure-all.

It's one of those nights where I find comfort in imagining stuffing some choice people I know into a large canon and shooting them, in a cartoonish arc, to the other side of the world.

Sick With Go-Getting

I'm staying up late feeling like a super-law-student entering volunteer profiles for Boston University 1L's who are coming to town next week.

Those bastards have 3.7, 3.8, even 3.9's while spending every waking moment of their non-study time doing things like teaching stepdancing in Cambodia and getting a black-belt in martial arts.

This sort of thing makes you wonder if you've been holding yourself up to the wrong yardstick.

My mother would say, ditch the yardstick.

Alright mom, I'll use it as a crop instead.