erledigt!

See this?

This is called nothing left to worry about.

It was glorious, marching into the adorable post office in Glen Echo, Maryland with the ten-ton envelope in hand. It was glorious to fill out the certified-mail forms. It was glorious to pay $9.80 to ship the thing to California, even though I planned to fly back there scant few hours later. (Did you know that, since 9/11, you can't mail a parcel at a U.S. post office with an out-of-state return address? I didn't.) But it was well beyond glorious to walk out of the post office, emptyhanded in victory except for that little green receipt. It was done. I made the deadline. I tainted yet another trip to Florida with the burdens of law school, marred what would otherwise have been a quite pleasant series of plane flights (lots of upgrades!) with a lapful of cases and a highlighter, but I did it. I entered the writing competition. I am now in contention for membership on a law journal at my school, possibly even the principal law review.

We seem to be reasonably unique in this: the writing competition is mandatory for anyone seeking a seat on any journal, not just the biggie. Elsewhere, I think, you can volunteer your way onto any topical journal, official or non; it's only the school's major law review that holds such a competition as this. At my school, meanwhile, there are six journals (not including the newest one, as yet unofficial): big brother Law Review and five younger, topical, less Presteeeeegeous siblings. To work on any one of these, you need to compete. And so we do. I applied to four: Big Brother (because you must), a topical journal which absent the Presteeeeege factor would be my first choice overall, and two other siblings that could be entertaining as well. Results should come back mid-August.

Meanwhile, I'm back home, doing laundry, running errands, crossing things off my to-do list at my leisure. In my ten-day absence my husband seems to have adopted my car. "Mine needs gas," he tells me by way of excuse, and yet no gas has been purchased for it in weeks, although he did fill up my tank yesterday. One of these days I'm going to prevail on him to sell the thing; cars should not go unloved, particularly when their fellow cars are members of the family. Either that, or I'm going to get a real stereo for it and convert it to my late-night moot court practice commute car.

Moot court and law review are not quite mutually exclusive. At least I hope they're not. Moot court lacks Presteeeeege, that elusive quality that magically transforms one's resume into the apparent equivalent of better luck a year ago. And yet it would absolutely break my heart to renounce the one aspect of law school that I actually enjoyed in favor of one whose main allure is peer pressure. *sigh*.

Mid-August. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.

thus spake /jca @ May 28, 2003 11:26 AM