Well, another one bites the dust. No, I didn't just croak from studying (though I have been locked in the law library for a week straight and yes, I have studied more this semester and perhaps even this week than the rest of my life combined and that is not not not an exaggeration, though I keep praying for a genie, magic cow, imaginary friend and/or fairy godmother to tell me that I haven't really had my nose in a book, a painfully enormous and moth-eaten monotonous book, for four months), and no one else I know kicked the bucket.
I'm talking about one more final down, and one big fat doozie to go. GOODBYE, TORTS. I poured my brain onto the screen (yes, we took the test on our laptops...is it Austin Powers of me to think that is neat? I am amazed by technology in a grandmotherly sort of way, couldn't believe it when i sealed my little flash drive in an envelope and handed it in and felt like James Bond. A sad, dorky James Bond). Three long hours...no one cares about the details, but as therapy for me, I will just say that there was a big, scary, ugly, messy, cruel and mole-covered hypothetical situation and we had 75 minutes to beat it into the ground with a baseball bat also known as my head, which was already swelling from information overload. A serious race against time began as I typed til my little fingers were sore, then we got a smaller but just as loathsome and vomit-inducing story to massacre for 45 minutes, then baby-bear version of the big beast for 30 minutes, and then a policy question at the end that was probably easy but I had gone cross-eyed by then so I'm not sure if it was about no-fault compensation or students against the treacherous use of fur. That's bad. I then slammed my computer shut and ran for my life. HOLD ME.
My snooty professor just said "No one gets everything I do, and that is normal."
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