You would think that with nothing but time on my hands, I'd have more time to update this thing. The funny thing about having nothing to do though is that that's when I get the least work done. For instance, I promised myself that my poor suffering apartment would get a much needed deep cleaning once I got home and the bar was a distant memory (at least for now). Almost a month post-bar and the only major accomplishment has been stacking all my Barbri books on my bookshelf. Hopefully, come November, they can get the proper treatment they deserve...which will be anything involving fire...
I wish I could say that I've enjoyed myself post-bar. I wish I could say that a weight was lifted off my shoulders and I finally felt like I could breathe again; today though, when I was out running along the river, I couldn't breathe. Literally. I was four miles into my run and suddenly, all of the thoughts about moving back to Cottage Grove in October, being unemployed, being lonely, missing people, sent me into a bona fide panic attack. I started hyperventilating and had to stop for about five minutes because I couldn't breathe. It felt like my throat had closed up to the size of one of those tiny straws you use to stir your coffee with. It's a terrifying feeling. I still had another mile and a half to go though, so once that drowning feeling went away, I turned my iPod back on, found the loudest, angriest, most aggro song on my playlist ("Freak On a Leash" by Korn), turned it up, and just tried not to think.
I feel stuck. I log on to Facebook and see people posting pictures from their post-bar trips or talking about how they're exhausted from their first week of work and I just wonder if that's ever going to be me. I mean, obviously I'll have a job, but will it be something that represents the 22 years of my life that I've invested in my education (and not to mention a lot of money) or will I be a part-time shop girl or waitress? I read an article not to long ago that described my generation as the generation of entitlement because we all feel like we're entitled to more than what we have. But looking at all of the time I've invested in school, all of the money, and a summer lost to the California bar exam, I don't feel bad about expecting more. I'm not asking for the $100k starting salary, I'm just asking for someone to call me back for an interview! I want to have a job so I can start saving to go on that post-bar trip that most likely won't happen for several more years. But mostly, I want a job so I can finally feel like an adult and not have a panic attack whenever I need to go grocery shopping...
I also feel bad for my mom for having to put up with me. I really want to look on the bright side, but I think with the reality of moving back to Cottage Grove in October if I don't find a job by then hanging over my head, everything just seems bleak. I can't even mask how depressed that thought makes me. Somedays I can hide it better than others, but this week I haven't even tried.
I just hope next week is better than this week. Or something happens on Friday that magically turns this into the best week ever...
...I think I'll shoot for next week.
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