Day 234: About the Next Three Weeks

Even if things go as smoothly as they possibly could (and they won’t), the next three weeks are going to be rough.  Very rough.  I’m hoping that by the end of those three weeks, HW will be on the other side of a mountain of work (or will be the first associate in the history of his firm on track to bill 3000 hours), I will have successfully completed (and passed) my bar exam, our children will be completely settled in their new school, and we will be settled in our new home. 

I have to admit I feel a strong pull toward robot-zombie-survival mode. Take a deep breath, dive in, forget about sleep or anything pleasurable for a while.  Just knocke it out.  That way, win, lose, or draw, I won’t worry I could have done more, and I’ll be too damn tired to care whether I did things perfectly.  On the other hand, I’m not sure that teaches the best possible lesson to my children. Maybe it does? Work hard, make sacrifices, etc.  I don’t know. 

We spent the past few days with my grandparents, which is always so wonderful. We talked about old family stories, saw pictures from the 1930’s, watched the debate, and even talked about funerals (their primary concern is making it easy and inexpensive – my grandmother isn’t sure she wants a traditional funeral at all and they want to be cremated in part to save on the cost of shipping their bodies back to their hometown). Pretty intense. Those conversations have a way of putting things in perspective. 

There is a lot I could write about all of that, but I feel conflicted, because part of me thinks this is no time for thinking. Memorize the civil procedure deadlines and dollar amounts for degrees of theft, try to make some sense out business associations, and hope and pray I remember how to write a decent essay. That should be the extent of my soul searching right now. That’s the reasonable, responsible thing to do.  

 So why do I keep finding opportunities to overthink things?  Sometimes a wave on the beach is just a wave on the beach.  Is it some form of self-sabotage? A rebellion from a mind no longer accustomed to this kind of pressure? 

Whatever it is, I doubt it is a coincidence. 


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