Rolling the Dice to My Future
You wanna know what I despise more than waking up early? Do you want to know what irks me more than a night where I’m bound to get less than 3 hours of sleep? It seems improbable that anything could be worse than those two prospects, either conjoined together, or as individual entities. But while these two will plague even the most productive of narcoleptics, nothing ruins a good night’s sleep more than a good snoring. Especially when it derives from two separate persons. Mom and dad, I love you both, but for the love of God, overcome your stubbornness and go to a sleep doctor or something. I swear I won’t look down on you if they forcibly assign you to a clunky breathing machine at night. But for your sake and mine, take some initiative!
Why do I commence with such a trivial topic? Well, for one, I do have to get up before 3 AM tomorrow to prepare for my flight back home after a fruitful vacation, fully equipped with all of the languidness, hearty meals, empty weight rooms, and temperate climates that anyone needing a good ol’ break could ask for. Especially when my hometown received 22 inches of snow in my absence. I suppose I forgot to mention. I’ve reached both the climax and resolution of my brief visit to Florida, which, as my dad would say, is God’s largest nursing home. I cannot help but concur with his opinion, as I found myself making one too many sarcastic remarks to my mom about the striking similarities between the restaurants we ate at and a funeral home.
Alas though, all great things come to an inevitable end, and new beginnings arise in their wake. I cherished each moment of my “down time” here in Florida, where I successfully read two books, the first regarding a cross country trip, and the second, pertaining to law school. How stark a contrast, yet how fittingly ironic. It’s old news that I am embarking upon a cross country trip of my own this coming summer, and when I return back home in mid-August, I will be attending my law school orientation.
While the first novel gave me some insight toward the kind of people I would meet in each respective state, it failed to encapsulate the sheer grandiosity that will likely preside over my upcoming summer adventure. Hence, its influence on me was minimal, at best.
Consequently, novel two was a firsthand account of the everyday shenanigans of a law student, albeit a Harvard law student. While my tenure will bear little resemblance to the 16 hour study days and the merciless professors that this particular student and his classmates endured during their first year as a law student, the crippling, paralyzing sentiments that will engulf my conscience during that first year will be quite reminiscent of the fears, doubts, and above all stress that all 1Ls (1st year law students) at Harvard experienced themselves.
At the conclusion of the novel, I found myself in a bit of a volatile state of mind. I didn’t know how to express my feelings. I still don’t. I’m torn between two conflicting schools of thought—the first pertaining to the excitement of attaining my juris doctor (JD), and the second, an unshakeable dissatisfaction with the ambivalent orbit of my future occupation. At the current moment, I seem to be in a very manageable position, largely due to the amount of time between now and my first day of classes. But what I fear most is the onerous, overbearing anxieties that will soon consume me as I commence a perpetual trend of worrying throughout my time as a 1L. Frankly, this is to be a fated occurrence, one that is eternally bound to the past, present, and future prospective law students. The inextricable reciprocity between 1L and a relentless barrage of stressors is simply ingrained in eons of generations of law students around the US. If I thought undergraduate anxieties were a burden, then evidently I don’t even have the ability to conceive an idea that serves as a precursor to the brutality of my upcoming school year. Simply put, I will induce a host of sentiments even beyond anxiety.
Fuck, well, I suppose it could be worse. My impending, profound angst could have transcended further into a life or death suicide mission for the maintenance of my sanity. That is, if my family wasn’t so well connected. I’m heading to a law school that isn’t nearly as reputable as most of the others I applied to, but because of the connections I have made in my own home city, I’m guaranteed at least an entry into the field. More or less, I have a job lined up for me. Whether I take it or not is all up to what will soon unfold when I enter law school this upcoming fall.
I return to the last sentence of the first paragraph about taking initiative. Sure, the passage itself seemed irrelevant at this time, and knowing me, 90% of it was. But the crucial bit that I want to discuss in brevity relates to committing oneself to the achievement of a task. Whether it is permanently mending the perceptibly unalterable transpiration of snoring amidst the night, or, in this case, obtaining a degree and passing the bar exam in phenomenal standing, it is imperative to finish what one has started, especially if one seeks to gain something out of the hard work that they have put in. Sure, maybe someone isn’t intrigued by the premonition that their lifelong, idiosyncratic snoring will abruptly come to a screeching halt, though who in their right mind would want to continue performing such an unhealthy activity during their sole hours of rest during the day? The point being, one cannot simply achieve without committing oneself to the attainment of that goal, no matters the methods and the means. If a doctor’s appointment every day for a month is what is required of you to stop snoring, then you’ve gotta do it. If 8-10 hours of studying a night during weekdays is what is demanded of me in order to attain the position that I want to in life, then so be it. But if you stop to think about the means and their importance on the ends, I can assure you, your situation will refrain from budding into a field of daisies.
It has long been a predilection of mine to firmly question the necessary steps taken to meet a desired end result. Notwithstanding, I have more or less always been an advocate of taking the easy way out so long as I reached my end goal. And despite the major overhaul of my education that will manifest itself this fall, I do not know how I will overcome this hubris of mine. I want to succeed. I want to do as well, if not better than every else. Actually, I want to do better. No, I know I want to. I’m too competitive. Especially given the fact that I will be in direct competition with many of my fellow students for internships over the summer that will allow me to make the smooth (or rocky) transition from law student to lawyer.
So, in order to combat my quasi-apathetic convictions toward getting things done in a non-half ass manner, I will need to realize that most of what I am learning will ACTUALLY apply to my desired career path for once, at least, for the most part (my dad attests to this not being true). But alas, taking the initiative to achieve will ideally allow me to become a better student than I have been thus far in my life. Time will only tell though. At this point, I rely heavily on the facts that 1. I will return from my cross country trip with the desire to garner a degree in law, 2. I am not jaded by the time number one happens, and 3. I can translate the unconditional dedication that I have so far toward my cross country trip, and will subsequently translate that toward my desire to become a proficient law student. Despite the stark contrast between the books that I mentioned before, they are eerily related, insofar as the success of one venture is almost entirely contingent upon the success of the other. And by God, do I hope that they will collaborate well with each other.