Screaming Bean - Everyone loves a Bean!

About Me

name: Beanie
age: 35
email: bbbeans@yahoo.com

AT THE MOMENT

Book: New York by Edward Rutherfurd

Music: 1999 by Prince

Mood:

The current mood of bbbeans@yahoo.com at www.imood.com

LAWYERS

Teahouse Blossom
CrimLaw
SilentService
May It Please The Court
Blonde Justice
Ernie The Attorney
f/k/a
Lessig Blog
Evan Schaeffer's Legal Underground
Jeremy's Weblog
Begging The Question
The Neutral Zone Trap
the imbroglio
Biting Tongue
Peanut Butter Burrito
Legal Quandary
In It But Not Of It
WonL
A New Duck
Just Playin'
Res Ipsa Eloquent
How Appealing
Scoplaw
Lag Liv
Law v. Life
IPTAblog
Lowering the Bar
Bag and Baggage
The Uncivil Litigator
Will Work For Favorable Dicta
Transmogriflaw

ON THE WAY

Divine Angst
Frequent Citations
Magic Cookie
Knocked Up (and in Law School)
Butterflyfish
Mommy on the Floor
PT-LawMom
Thanks, But No Thanks
Law Ingenue
No. 634
think like a woman. act like a man.

I READ THESE TOO

the underwear drawer
Do Not Overmix
Little Lost Robot
PostSecret
Overheard in the Office
JD2B

ARCHIVES

spacer!

Screaming Bean

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

It spread like wildfire. So what if we don't see people every day during the summer, or that we don't work in the same places, the word was out. Grades were in the mail. For people like me nothing strikes more fear in your heart than the knowledge that there might be an envelope in your mailbox upon returning home from work that holds the promise of ruining your summer. And, by how some people react, ruin your life. I had been told that they were being mailed Monday, setting up for a Tuesday arrival, but then the panicked phone calls started. Word on the street was that people had them Friday afternoon. This started the rollercoaster prematurely. Stomach in the throat, I walked gingerly to the mailbox Monday. (I say gingerly, not because of the weight of the moment, but rather I was still hobbled by over eager calf raises.) Inhale, open the door and...nothing. A credit card offer, a misplaced postcard and no grades. The adrenaline ebbed and I was left with a dull headache. I headed indoors for Advil. Tuesday, the cycle began anew. The theory had been edited that in fact only first years had received their grades Friday. Why this is, we're still not sure since during our spring semester we did not receive grades until late July. Either way, the moment was upon us and the time bombs were planted by well meaning postal workers. I happened to have a lunch date with a fellow student who was unlucky enough to get mail delivery by lunch. The phone rang and another person called with the news that she was saddened by her Trusts and Estates grade. The floodgates were open. The only thing keeping me from my appointed destiny was the drive home. My spouse beat me home and grabbed the envelope, I had to follow it up the stairs. Did I go to the gym and let this dwell in my consciousness while arguing with the elliptical machine? No, this was the time, this was the place. Honestly, knowing that I was in good standing did cut down on any nausea I might have had. A stunned silence descended as I looked at the sheet. Not only did I have the best semester yet, I actually had grades that made me want to dance. So I did. I whooped and hollered and danced. So what if I'm not the top ten percent, or top twenty...I'm alive and ready to fight another day. I aced a paper that was the bane of my existence. This has made my summer. Compared to some, these grades may not be seen as success, but to me it's sweet sweet music. Care to tango?

handed down by Beanie at 10:02 AM || |