Stages of grief about Barbri

Currently moving from denial to anger.

Denial: La la la! I just finished three years of law school, and I deserve some fun! Plllbbbbbt, Bar examiners! Barb Rhee? Don't know her. Funky name, though.

Anger: Such a stupid, stupid requirement! No lawyer needs to know all of this crap at once -- that's why we have a freakin' apprenticeship system, where the senior associates tell the baby associates exactly what to do! And there are books to refer to! Hate bar. Hate law. Hate New York. Hate Board of Law Examiners. HATE.

Bargaining: Just let me pass the freaking exam, please, please, please. I can't go through these freaking lectures with law profs who think they're funny and not pass the bar. Please let me pass, please let me pass, please let me pass.

Depression: I'm going to fail. There is no possible way I can keep all this information in my head. Why bother? I should just lie down and pour an entire bag of Lay's potato chips (the regular greasy kind, not the "healthy" baked kind) down my throat while watching the Project Runway marathon. There's just no point in trying.

Acceptance: I have to take it. I know. Once I take it, I'll be in a better place -- Esq.-land.