Once More With Feeling

The nice thing about my life right now is that it's predictable. I wake up about an hour after my alarm goes off and finish up the reading for my first class of the day. I stumble down the street to the Metro; I try to avoid running directly into the other bleary-eyed commuters (and, predictably, I fail). A comforting rhythm emerges.

In class, I'm sometimes silent and sometimes talkative. When I contribute, I'm sometimes insightful and sometimes embarrassingly inarticulate. I type like a madwoman for two straight hours and then it's over.

How to break the monotony? In the rush of my daily life, I find myself in a situation that my dad used to speak of with horror--I'm waiting to get my ticket punched. I've somehow lost the passion that governed my first year of law school: the excitement has dulled; the passion has lapsed into routine. (I am talking about law school, right?)

Flashing moments remind me of what I'm waiting for--being able to help a friend in need; understanding controversies; providing assistance to others at a more useful level. I know that when it's over, I'll be glad.

So what am I complaining about? As with most things, Joss Whedon said it best.

I want the fire back.

Return of the Law School Blogger: On Facebook and other distractions

I'd pretty much given up this blog for dead--nothing interesting ever really happens to me. Well, nothing that can't be condensed into a witty-yet-poignant Facebook status update. And I'm convinced, after long study, that the last thing the Internet needs is yet another self-important pseudo-intellectual blocking the tubes with his or her unedited bloviations on topics ranging from the state of the world (YnksRulz4EvaJrK and IHartRonPaul have some GREAT ideas about the economy--if only you people would listen) to the guy in Public Forum X who WILL NOT STOP ANNOYING BEHAVIOR Y. Ugh. The nerve of some people!

So why the return to the airwaves--or whatever it is that makes the pretty pictures of cats with calculatedly grammatically incorrect captions fly into the little metal box I haul with me wherever I go? It occurred to me that rather than talking to myself while I walk down the street, running into trees and signposts more frequently than one strictly should, and devoting large portions of class time to crafting Facebook status updates that perfectly capture my mood, I should just start writing my blog again. It seems like a good way to blow off steam. Follow-through has never been my special gift, so this may be the first and last post that I write.

At least, until I start running into trees again.