The above title to Pink's fourth album (why would anyone name their album that) says it all. In case anyone's been questioning the extra long hiatus, it's law school finals time again! Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze in a post in between all the cramming and crying, but until my final test on the 17th, don't hold out too much hope for an avalanche of entries. For anyone considering going to law school, my one piece of warning is: be prepared to have the joy completely sucked out of the period from Thanksgiving to Christmas for the next three years.
The only word to describe the time is: Ugly. People stop smiling, people stop going outside, and generally taking care of themselves. For most it's just locking yourself up in a two week nightmare of coffee, re-printed notes, practices tests, and study guides; all in a desperate effort to mercilessly force your brain into allowing in one more useless piece of legal doctrine. If I wasn't so lazy, I'd be in far worse shape.
If only the school library was more like the Tears For Fears video, full of wonder, romance, synthesizers, monkeys, and Roland Orzabal.
Well with my third final (a riveting 3 hours of Criminal Law questions and essays) I am now on the back end of my law school finals odyssey. A final Torts 2 exam on Friday is all that stands in my way towards sweet freedom (until I start summer classes a week or so later).
The motivation to study for said exam however is at an all time low. The situation is hopelessly stacked against me giving a damn about the rubber test. As of this point 10/12ths of my final grade is now locked in and unchangeable, for better or for worse. This measly 2 credit afterbirth of a class can only significantly affect my GPA in the rare case of an extremely high grade or an extremely low grade. In addition, even the professor realized the wholly unnecessary nature of the school mandating a second semester of Torts and gave up seriously teaching just before the students gave up seriously learning. It's definitely going to be quite an interesting curve when these dueling apathies collide on Friday.
Never the less I should probably crack open a textbook here and there just to make sure I end up in that nice plush, comfortable cushion of mediocrity right in the middle of the curve. So as part of my continuing my regimen of diligently playing all the available angles in studying, except for the studying itself, I am working the intangibles in the form of karma.
Now regardless of your inherent beliefs or philosophies, one can only benefit from hedging your bets by accumulating karma. I'm not saying you should be devoting your life to some righteous path or radically changing your world view or priorities; although I guess if you want to be my guest. The way I see it, collecting tiny bits of karma by doing minor positive things can only help you and over time these little micro transactions will hopefully add up to something significant (kind of like the "Tipping Point" I guess).
For me, I find numerous opportunities in get bits of goodwill around the library where I spend the bulk of my days studying/contemplating why I'm in law school/sleeping. I don't know what the situation is like in other law schools or graduate schools in general, but I have never seen such a selfish, inconsiderate bunch of students. Everywhere you go there are empty candy wrappers or coffee cups or scraps of paper along the study cubicles of the library. Although we study how to read and interpret rules and statutes we hardly seem to apply this in real life when viewing signs like "No laptops on X floor" or "No food or beverage allowed" or "Please be quiet during study hours". I don't even want to get into the horror show that is the bathroom stalls.
So in the face of such negative karma, I do my little part here and there to give myself a possible advantage. I don't get all Captain Planet on the library but if I'm on my way out and there's a trash can nearby I'll pick up a loose piece of litter here or there and properly dispose of it. One of my classic moves is turning off the individual cubicle lights that other people left on; saving energy, going green, very karmic. Those little touches along with the occasional pushing of a chair into a desk, returning a misplaced book to the front, a holding open of the door for another person, and of course always saying "good morning" and "good night" to the security and janitorial staff all accumulate to powerful goodwill.
Of course there's no hard evidence that any of this will actually help me and that these could just be the pointless superstitious rituals of a lazy, desperate student; but I stress again it can't hurt to make a good case for the karma police. Perhaps there is a universal calculus of equity and fairness, or maybe doing good acts will put me in a more test friendly positive state, or achieve a psychosomatic effect on me; in the end there's nothing but aggregate positives. If nothing else the library is just a tiny bit tidier, bottles are getting recycled, I'm feeling better about my prospects albeit microscopically, and most importantly I'm doing something other than studying.
I completed (i.e. probably failed) the first of my four big finals on Monday as the Victor finals fortnight of horrors rolls on. If hell's anything like the depiction in "Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey" (the modern day equivalent of Dante's "Inferno"), where you're doomed to spend all of eternity in a twisted, perverse, nightmare version of the worst moments in your life: mine would be right here, right now. I would forever be stuck on the overheated 2nd floor study area, chained to my cramped shoddy wood panel study cubicle, buried under a mountain of senseless highlighted notes, studying for a final that will never come. Hitler will probably in the adjoining desk constantly coughing and typing loudly, while Judas will be on the other end slurping French onion soup. Bogus indeed.
One of the few things that keep me going through this extended exercise in academic futility is America's favorite drug caffeine; and judging by the overflowing trash cans full of Starbucks cups and empty energy drink cans, apparently I'm not the only one who enjoys riding the fidgety dragon.
How can one not resist the charms of sweet lady C? On paper it'll give you quick energy, increase concentration, focus, and stamina, everything you could possibly ask for in a legal performance enhancer. However, when applied in real life it's far from an academic panacea. All I see in a room full of mostly anxious, spazzes, tweaking, and making frequent trips to the bathroom. In the end that grande or can of Red Bull isn't going to work any miracles (now methamphetamines and illegally obtained prescription drugs on the other hand...different story).
However it's not to say caffeine doesn't have a place in this whole studying experience. Like I said, it's a big part of my studying day. It'll only disappoint if you overestimate it. The energetic effects are brief, it'll probably leave you feeling more tired by the end, and when you're perked up you're probably more anxious than focused. In my case, however, it does its job of keeping my eyes open. It's as simple as that. When I crack open these notes or an outline, or textbook it's like a handkerchief full of chloroform. I can barely go a page, regardless of my current level of fatigue, without my brain giving up and going into standby mode. It's so cliched, like something out of a silent movie, but it's true. To prospect of a period of studying knocks me out. So to keep me going I have get enough juice in me for my eyes to physically be unable to close. It's sort of like "A Clockwork Orange" when they try to brainwash Alec and they force his eyes open with a restraint...only chemically.
I have to admit though, this requires a lot of caffeine to pull off; and considering how quickly one develops a tolerance for the stuff, a steadily increasing supply. Now this could get quite expensive and taxing, drinking my weight in Starbucks coffee or pricey energy drinks, all of which I'm not the biggest fans of in terms of taste. That's why the only way to fly is the always convenient caffeine pill.
Of course for anyone around my age, when I just mentioned the word "caffeine pill" only one scene immediately came to mind:
That's right, the singular defining moment of our generation; our moon landing/Kennedy assassination/Challenger disaster combined: the Jessie Spano Freakout! I know how can I resort to the dangers of the pill after having such a powerful scene like that burned into my childhood? How can anyone?
I admit at first there was a bit of a stigma when I reached for that pack of generic "Stay Awake" tablets at the corner drug store, I could hear in the back of my mind the frenzied, terrified, screams of "I'm so excited, I'm so...scared!", but I summoned enough personal strength to break that fabled last taboo. That and I wasn't going to pay out the ass for gallons of weak ass brews when I could have gotten the equivalent of 32 cups of coffee for two bucks! And you know what? Popping a pill or two is a lot easier than chugging and running back and forth from the urinal. SO FUCK OFF JESSIE SPANO, YOU WHINY ASS FEMINAZI!!
I'll work every angle possible, (outside of actually buckling down and studying hard) to get through this rough patch. And, Jessie, if you were really dedicated to success you would have kept on those pills, not blown that audition, aced those midterms, gotten into Stansbury, and Slater wouldn't have dumped you before starting the "College Years."
Yesterday was the end of classes for my first year of law school. For the first time ever I was miserable on a final day of school. For my entire academic life the end of school usually was a time of celebration, the whole Alice-Cooper-School's-Out thing. However, in the twisted world of legal education the end of a semester only means the start of the worst two or so weeks of your life. In that span of roughly a fortnight, when you're not taking a high pressure, multi hour examination where your entire semester's work, your overall school rank, and your prospects for future success all hang in the balance; you're force cramming your head with a semester's worth of legal knowledge.
It all adds up to a funky situation.
As a life long slacker and perpetual underachiever this is all brand new, frankly disturbing territory for me. My setup is further burdened by the fact that I haven't really been all that diligent during the school year (OMG!). So for someone who's coasted along the waves of academia all these years (I mean my major at undergrad was Communications for crying out loud) and viewed the practice of "studying" for a test beforehand to be quite optional (and possibly even a bit like cheating); reviewing (translation: relearning) the entire semester's material by actually sitting down and "studying" is quite a herculean undertaking on my part.
According to people I've asked who "study" and the myriad of unqualified guides on the internet, one method to enhance the act of "studying" is to set a reward for yourself to keep you motivated and focused on the task at hand. Something like a snack/treat or internet use, or watching TV at the end of a set goal of X period of studying or X amount of reading, etc is usually the suggested motivations. I guess if it was good enough for Pavlov's dogs and those cartoons where a horse has a carrot in front of him, then it was good enough for me.
After setting up the prize of delicious Slim Jim in exchange for an hour of uninterrupted review of my Property notes, though, I realized for me this was bullshit.
I couldn't stop thinking about the lure of beefy, spicy, excitement! Every few minutes I found myself looking at the clock to see if the hour had come for me to snap into one. I'd be reading up on landlord-tenant rights and then suddenly...SLIM JIM. I found myself deliberately slowing down, delaying my reading, eating up clock time like it was the 4th quarter of the Super Bowl and I had the possession and lead. The fact that I knew that at any time I could have just gone and gotten the Slim Jim without any penalties also certainly didn't help. It's not like I had to earn it from anyone but myself. So in the end, how could I possibly concentrate on studying or even make a rational attempt at learning when I knew that I could be not studying and enjoying a Slim Jim. I felt like that dog the Bud Light commercial:
So maybe there are people who can actually deceive their own minds into thinking they're actually rewarding themselves. I both envy and pity them at the same time. For me, however, rewards are crap. In fact, the complete opposite, no possibility of reward whatsoever, would be a better motivator. At least when you have absolutely nothing better to do, you don't mind the task you're currently doing as much.
Come to think of it, that sounds a lot like my whole reasoning for going to law school.
