What Lies Behind

Remy: You are an illustration; why am I talking to you?
Gusteau: Oh, you just lost your family - all your friends - you are lonely.
Remy: Yeah, well, you're dead!
Gusteau: Ahh, but that is no match for wishful thinking! If you're focused on what you've left behind, you will not be able to see what lies ahed. Now go up and look around!
- Ratatouille

I feel like a total idiot (nothing new there...) I left the power cord for my laptop at home and because this piece of plastic only lasts an hour that means I have to drive home to get it like the total airhead that I am. For some reason the thought of entering my apartment fills me with dread. Perhaps that’s why I don’t sleep at night? It’s just so cold and dark and dreary. I don’t even know how to liven it up or fix the problem; it just is, and cannot be rectified at this point in time.

I made the mistake of succumbing to the endless assault on my inbox from the Class of 2008 Student Gift Campaign Committee and donated a little to the gift fund because no one from section A was doing so (seriously - we were at 2% participation; now we’re at 4), whereas the Transfer Students were at something ridiculous like 70% and even the other sections were blowing is out of the water. We looked like totally anti-school chumps. Then, talking with someone from my section, I come to find that our section had launched a protest on the gift campaign because we’re the only ones who were taught (“subjected to” were his words, actually) by the now disgraced Dean Hurd, and this is our way of showing our disapproval/disappointment. I was not apprised of this fact. Apparently I’m the only one who liked her. What gives? What was so horrid about her? I mean, her class wasn’t easy, but she was very nice and I always looked forward to her. She was ridiculously engaging when I saw her during office hours. I still like her, although I seem to be the lone holdout.

Listening to my classmates pratter on about they’re going to do after graduation and their current exploits and undertakings in mock trials and trial advocacy programs makes me feel horribly out of place. I don’t belong in law school. I’m not sure what I’m doing here. I’m not social or successful and I certainly have no future in the legal field. I feel like a complete... well, like a monkey pretending to be a human. On top of that, my knee is doing a remarkable job of impeding my attempts at acquiring a life. I complain not to harp upon the issue but to provide a low threshold at which I may sneer if/when I finally pull myself together at the end of the year. Yet again I didn’t sleep last night, so my head is pounding, my vision swimming, and I long fervently to just remain in a horizontal position. Seventy-three days ‘till graduation. Not a moment too soon.