Icky...

...is how I feel, and icky I shall continue to feel, until I hie myself back to a regular gym routine, which will hopefully help me stop feeling panicky about not understanding bankruptcy class, not having read for corporations at all this semester, and wondering how I will get through the rest of the semester when I feel like I'm going to cry every day.

1. Bankruptcy. I hate that class. Not because it's not entertaining or even kind of interesting, but because I spend six or seven or eight hours each weekend reading the assignments, another 2.5 hours going over the problem set with my study group, and then suffering through class three times a week, awash in fear of being called on. And I still don't understand parts of it! I grew up thinking that if I work hard at something, I should be able to understand it. Spend enough time and energy, and you will be rewarded by -- maybe not mastery, but surely some modicum of comprehension? Is that so much to ask?

My mother suggested I tell the prof: "Someone's being dumb here. Is it me or is it you?" 'Cause it's got to be a little bit due to the teaching, no?

2. Corporations. Ugh. The less said the better. If I had the time to read, I have the vague feeling that I'd find it moderately interesting. But I have read literally 15 pages since the beginning of the semester, and I am completely lost in class. I skipped class on Thursday because ... well, because I gave up on life that morning and watched ABC shows online all day while sitting in my darkened room, but also because I couldn't face possibly being called on in corporations. And then I skipped half of corporations on Friday, just to make extra sure I wouldn't be called on, and when I went to class, whaddya know -- I'm next to be called on. I left the classroom. Just up and left and checked email and completely avoided the situation.

Really, I cannot deal with school anymore.

3. Tonight I bought my first pack of cigarettes this term because I had that feeling while going over problems with my study group. You know that feeling where you feel the dumbest out of the group, and you can't follow what the others are talking about, and the worst part? The worst part is that you actually DID the reading. And you still don't know what the others are talking about. I thought I was going to cry. Ack.

So it's a good thing I have no class this coming week, because I am reaching a breaking point of sorts, and it'll be good to at least be out of school for those few days. I am interviewing at two places in two different cities, but at least I won't be in class. Of course, one of those places is Seattle, where the folks live, and that'll be another sort of stress. I mean, what kind of aunt, uncle and mother don't call you back when you leave them messages saying that surprise! you'll be in town next weekend? I totally called them on Thursday, when I found out that I'd been called back by a Seattle firm, and it's not until tonight, when I called them per my weekly talk, that we talked about it. And then my aunt and uncle sounded all stressed and not happy about me coming, to the point where I asked, "Look, is this not a good time for you guys? Because you don't sound very happy about me coming, you sound stressed."

I figured out that it was the thought of having to drive into Seattle from their home (about 45 minutes away) in the evening that was stressing them out. (I'd suggested dinner on Friday night in Seattle.) They were in a pretty serious car accident in the spring, and that has made them into old people. Before, they were getting up there (aunt is 70, uncle is 65), but they weren't Old People. Now, they are frightened and old, and it's sort of heartbreaking.

Is it too much to ask for them to be secure enough to say, hey, we'd be more comfortable if you came out to our house? I try to be understanding, I tell them -- you don't have to drive, I can come out to your house, you can stay at my hotel, etcetera, etcetera, but tonight I ... I am tired. I shouldn't let it get to me, I should just do what I can and let it go, but "doing what I can" is so limitless, somehow, so infinite. I can do a lot. But I'm not used to being the cruise director, to thinking about what would actually make the situation relaxing for others, and it's exhausting. I don't know how to dial down that part of me that wonders and worries about their happiness.

I don't know. I went on a lovely hike yesterday with Junebug, my college friend who lives in Providence, and I was trying to talk this and other related things out with her, and it was nice to feel that she understood, and could advise me from her own experience with her mother. I realized afresh how alienating law school has been. I'm older and dealing with so many issues that the 22-year-olds haven't yet, and it's exhausting to be in an environment where it feels like no one understands you, nor appreciates what you are going through, nor appreciates what you have gone through.

I realize this is turning into a huge long complaint about life and everything in the world, but there it is. I whine. That's what this blog is about. That's what I do on this blog. Sometimes I can write about it with good humor, and sometimes I can't, and ... I don't know. Is this the way it's supposed to be? I feel like I'm working so hard this term, with very little return or satisfaction. What am I doing wrong? How do I fix it?

Well. Here's a picture of nice foliage to reward you for getting through this entry.