Millionaire Matchmaker

Sidelined by a killer headache, I've spent most of my evening since getting home from work laying on the couch indulging in my guilty pleasure, Bravo.  Real Housewives, Top Chef, The Rachel Zoe Project...zero thinking required on my part.  I've spent the past three hours watching The Millionaire Matchmaker.  I absolutely love Patti Stanger because she just flat out will tell people that they suck at life if that's the case.  Maybe one day, if I ever meet the income requirement, I can let her analyze me...ahahaha, who am I kidding, my student loan payments are going to be taking every last bit of disposable income I have for the next 25-30 years.  Huzzah!

On a side note...I promise to try and post a little more regularly from here on out.  So, for the two of you that read this, yay!  :)

Today was an up and down day.  It's hard to complain too much when I work in an office where afternoons are marked with Nerf wars that culminate in the entire staff converging on our boss's office and littering the place with darts.  Are there many other offices that do that?  I don't think so.

But then something happened that turned any happiness I'd felt during the day and just completely erased it.  The all too familiar feeling of having the wind knocked out of me.  You would think that after a year I'd have built up an immunity, but unfortunately, that's not how it works.  So I sat at my desk, attempting to focus on the tax research in front of me for the last 30 minutes of my day, but failing miserably.  I went home and tried to push the negative thoughts out of my mind, once again failing miserably.  I went to the gym and spent four miles on a treadmill, pretending that I was chasing down whatever it was that made me feel so bad.  I left feeling marginally better and looking like a hot mess.

And then I came home, cleaned up, sat down, and opened up my computer to find a friend had left me a message.  And as quick as it took me to feel like I had had the wind violently knocked out of me, I felt the mouth curve into a smile.  Sometimes that's really all you need when you feel like everything's going wrong.  Not someone to tell you it's going to be all right when no one can be totally sure of that; not someone to help plot out how you're going to exact revenge.  Just a friend to say something nice and remind you that there are good people out there.  So to that friend, I just want to thank you.  I really, truly thank you.

Merry Christmas, Darling...

The Show Must Go On...

It's been almost two weeks since bar results came out.  I spent that entire weekend curled up on the couch with a box of Kleenex and BBC America.  My face was so red and swollen, it looked like I'd walked into a swarm of bees.  Not exactly my prettiest hour.

I'd like to say that I've had time to reflect on the whole experience and am ready to look ahead and try again.  And that's partially true.

Obviously I'm retaking the test; if I gave up every time I failed at something, I would never have made it as far as I have.  I've decided to take the Oregon bar in July instead of taking the California bar again in February.  It just seems to make the most sense, considering the circumstances.  I just started working, so moving out of state is out of the question.  If I was even considering taking the bar in February, I literally would have had to have started studying this week.  With a new job that has me in the office for 10 hours a day, the idea of having to start that soul-sucking experience all over makes me wanna start sobbing again.  I also don't want to take myself away from the opportunity of getting to know the people I'm working with, which is exactly what would happen if I had to be studying during my hour lunch break and as soon as I got off work.  Add to the fact that I would have to take a week off of work less than four months in, waiting and staying local just seems to be the best thing right now.

So I've got a plan and anyone who knows me knows that I'm more at ease when I've got it all mapped out. But as for how I'm doing...I can't explain it, but I feel different.  Sure, I've failed at things before, but this feels different.  I feel...hollow?  Hopeless?  I'm not sulking around, I'm not listening to depressing music on repeat, I just...I feel like this failure has permanently changed me.  I devoted my entire summer, to studying.  I did every homework assignment, I read every outline, and my apartment was blanketed in note cards.  I prayed night and day and made sure to give my lucky pig a squeeze before each section of the test.  I got every essay subject I could have asked for and the only part that made me nervous was the MBE.  I actually walked away from that test thinking that I passed.  For the first time in years, I felt confident about a test.  I thought law school had beaten that feeling out of me.  All of that and I still failed.  Let's not dress it up by saying, "I didn't pass."  I failed.  FAILED.  Plain and simple.

I get that I'm not the first or last person to fail the bar, but honestly, I don't care about everyone else.  Call me selfish, self-absorbed, but I don't care.  I failed and I feel like the rug has been pulled out from under me.  I worked so hard to pull myself out of the clusterfuck that was my first year of law school and I feel like this just knocked me back down to square one.  I'm embarrassed and I'm ashamed that even after all of that work, I wasn't even "minimally competent."  I studied like I've never studied before and I gave all that I possibly could during those three days of the test.  If that wasn't enough, then what is?

But the show must go on, right?  The only thing that would make me a bigger failure is if I just gave up. So I take it again.  And if I fail, I take it again.  Hopefully, I'll see my name on that pass list eventually.  Until then though...just gotta try to keep putting one foot in front of the other...

Epic Fail

Close to half of the people that sat for the July 2010 California bar exam failed.

Last night, I found out I was one of them.

In my mind, that's as good of an excuse as any to lay on my couch all weekend and catch up on all of the shows I've missed after a week of being without DirectTV.

Next week: regroup.  The week after: start the process all over again.

For now though...attempt to salvage what's left of a shattered spirit.  That, I fear, will be trickier than studying for the bar again...

Mission Accomplished

Bruised, battered, and definitely tired, but all moved in to my new apartment.  Mom came up with the U-Haul this morning and somehow, she and I managed to carry my couch upstairs without ruining it.  The couch did try to kill me in the process (getting stuck between the a piece of furniture and the stairwell is not how I want to go out) and I seriously tweaked my lower back, but it and all of the rest of my heavy furniture are safely in their new home.  Now all I have to do is clean the old apartment so I can at least get some of my security deposit back and hand over the keys!  The move is (almost) complete.

Once I'm no longer living out of boxes, I'll post some pictures.  It's so much nicer than my last place, and I'm excited to get the chance to decorate once I'm all settled and, you know, I start getting a paycheck.  For now though, all I want to do is lay down and enjoy my last weekend of being unemployed.  Come Monday, it's time to go to work...

Times, They Are a Changin'...

A lot has changed over the past few weeks...

I GOT A JOB!!!  I didn't blog about it sooner because I think I still wasn't sure if it was all really happening.  I went in for a second interview before Halloween and fully expected to have to wait another week before I heard anything back (like every other job I'd interviewed for).  But after an hour of meeting with the two partners of the group, they asked if this job sounded like something I wanted to do, and when I said yes, they asked when I could start!  Just like that!

I think I expected to be a little more excited than I actually was.  That's not to say that I wasn't; I just wasn't rolling on the ground, kicking and screaming.  I think fear and anxiety muscled past excitement, because while I was relieved and happy to have finally found a job (one that actually sounded like something I wanted to do and not just something I was settling for) and a real paycheck, my mind instantly went to all of the logistics.  How long would it take to pack up my apartment?  How am I going to get my couch down three flights of stairs?  How quickly can I find a new apartment?  How much is all of this gonna cost me?  How am I going to make friends in a new city?  The harsh realities of adulthood were seriously taking all of the fun out of getting my first real job!  But nearly a week later, I'm finally starting to feel a little more at ease with the whole process.  I got a new apartment that I'll be moving into this Friday, so the big stressor right now is packing and moving everything out of here and into the new place.  So for the past week, I've basically spent all my time on this:

Packing.  I.  Hate.  Packing.  I did it every single year while I was in college and it never gets any easier. And this time around, I have a couch to move, which presents new fun challenges.  Sigh...it'll all get done, one way or another.

It's been a crazy past couple of weeks, but all good crazy.  It's nice to finally be moving forward instead of standing still...