And I shall call it ... lawyer emu!
To say my week ended badly would probably qualify as one of those understatements, wouldn't it?
Friday, after class, I got in line to pick up my marked closed memo assignment and peeked at it on the way home, instead of waiting until I was in the security and almost-warmth of my cat-filled apartment. More fool me. It was a notably less-than-stellar mark, not even a good mark, sort of a mediocre mark. The words 'inadequate' were used. A lot. There wasn't a single crumb of something slightly positive for me to cling to that might suggest I was on anything but the wrong track. To be sure, I probably have classmates that failed the assignment, and I knew, handing it in, that the primary purpose of the exercise, for me, was to figure out what was wanted by legal writing. I find abstract explanations to be wholly unhelpful; similarly, seeing what previous students have done is not exactly an ideal guide. I needed to do the damn assignment myself and then see how close my assumptions were to what the professor actually wanted. And that's what I got and I'm sure it will help me get a better mark on the open memo, as well as eradicate anything I have resembling a life.
God, I was even told it was poorly /proofread/, despite the whole supposedly being a most excellent manipulator of the English language in writing and having actually proofread it (although it should come as no surprise, being as I have always been more than a bit of an idiot when it comes to the whole spelling-and-grammar issue).
It was a depressing way to kick off the actually being marked thing, and while I'm less inclined to burst into tears over the subject, I am still feeling very melancholy. It's damned discouraging and I want to apologize to the good professor who I quite like for causing him to mark yet another terrible closed memo.
Then I burnt my hand on the fridge earlier this evening.
Maybe whoever said that the people they knew who'd gotten into law school were kind of stupid was right. I certainly don't feel very smart these days, and I never exactly felt like a genius to begin with.
Still, I did laundry and dishes today, cleaned the bath tub, read everything for both torts classes next week, everything for contracts on Tuesday, and all I'll need for criminal law next week. Briefed everything, too. I've made a grocery list to go shopping tomorrow, which will probably result in the demise of my back, but look, it's a /list/. It's /organized/. None of this is very fun, but it's a kind of productivity, I suppose.
I went to bed at 10.30 last night. I did not wake up until 9.30. I had a dream where my mother was going to save us all from the green-faced vampire invasion, which involved holing up in a mansion library until the vampires forgot we were there. Then, before they noticed, we were to escape and everyone was to drive to Calgary, where we would be safe. Also, there were used bookstores on the way, which was an obvious necessity. I can't tell if my subconscious is making some kind of political commentary or if I just want to go to the Sentry Box again.
On the bright side, there is nothing quite so peaceful as watching a kitten be content (and there is nothing quite as terrifying as having him practise his impersonation of a flying alien face hugger on you when you're trying to go to bed), I got to watch the original King Kong and Fay Wray is very pretty, in Wild ARMs 2 you can make your character RUN INTO WALLS AND FALL DOWN HEE HEE HEE, and I finished The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories. It was good.
More of the latter, less of the former,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off
Friday, after class, I got in line to pick up my marked closed memo assignment and peeked at it on the way home, instead of waiting until I was in the security and almost-warmth of my cat-filled apartment. More fool me. It was a notably less-than-stellar mark, not even a good mark, sort of a mediocre mark. The words 'inadequate' were used. A lot. There wasn't a single crumb of something slightly positive for me to cling to that might suggest I was on anything but the wrong track. To be sure, I probably have classmates that failed the assignment, and I knew, handing it in, that the primary purpose of the exercise, for me, was to figure out what was wanted by legal writing. I find abstract explanations to be wholly unhelpful; similarly, seeing what previous students have done is not exactly an ideal guide. I needed to do the damn assignment myself and then see how close my assumptions were to what the professor actually wanted. And that's what I got and I'm sure it will help me get a better mark on the open memo, as well as eradicate anything I have resembling a life.
God, I was even told it was poorly /proofread/, despite the whole supposedly being a most excellent manipulator of the English language in writing and having actually proofread it (although it should come as no surprise, being as I have always been more than a bit of an idiot when it comes to the whole spelling-and-grammar issue).
It was a depressing way to kick off the actually being marked thing, and while I'm less inclined to burst into tears over the subject, I am still feeling very melancholy. It's damned discouraging and I want to apologize to the good professor who I quite like for causing him to mark yet another terrible closed memo.
Then I burnt my hand on the fridge earlier this evening.
Maybe whoever said that the people they knew who'd gotten into law school were kind of stupid was right. I certainly don't feel very smart these days, and I never exactly felt like a genius to begin with.
Still, I did laundry and dishes today, cleaned the bath tub, read everything for both torts classes next week, everything for contracts on Tuesday, and all I'll need for criminal law next week. Briefed everything, too. I've made a grocery list to go shopping tomorrow, which will probably result in the demise of my back, but look, it's a /list/. It's /organized/. None of this is very fun, but it's a kind of productivity, I suppose.
I went to bed at 10.30 last night. I did not wake up until 9.30. I had a dream where my mother was going to save us all from the green-faced vampire invasion, which involved holing up in a mansion library until the vampires forgot we were there. Then, before they noticed, we were to escape and everyone was to drive to Calgary, where we would be safe. Also, there were used bookstores on the way, which was an obvious necessity. I can't tell if my subconscious is making some kind of political commentary or if I just want to go to the Sentry Box again.
On the bright side, there is nothing quite so peaceful as watching a kitten be content (and there is nothing quite as terrifying as having him practise his impersonation of a flying alien face hugger on you when you're trying to go to bed), I got to watch the original King Kong and Fay Wray is very pretty, in Wild ARMs 2 you can make your character RUN INTO WALLS AND FALL DOWN HEE HEE HEE, and I finished The Ladies of Grace Adieu and Other Stories. It was good.
More of the latter, less of the former,
Almighty Ingrid, Signing Off