So yesterday, my internet was down so I wasn't able to post what would have ended up as an entirely depressing, self-loathing, pointless post. So, time saved for everyone involved here.

Essentially - halfway through my crim class I had as much of a panic attack as I could get without actually jumping into full-fledged shaking on the floor in the fetal position. Which would have been embarresing. Instead, it was, all at once realizing that

(a) I only have five weeks or so until finals
(b) we still have so much to get through in all of our classes - ex: we have gone through three pages of our prop sylabus this semester but still have another three whole pages to get through in a month , including the 'someone told me it's a bitch' rule against perpetuties and future interests. or all of rape/defenses/attempts in a month because all we've managed to do this entire semester is causation & mens rea.
(c) summer job? haven't started thinking about it. and even though we can't legally even so much as apply for a job until December 1 & public interest-type jobs (the only kind a 1L NOT from harvard/NYU/Columbia even has a shot at landing) don't start hiring until February-ish --- people are still stressing about it. Which, in turn, makes me stressed out that I'm not stressed. Tricky
(d) law school's response to all this? "Why don't we put on weekly programming who's only intent [i think] is to stress everyone out even more" Like the 1.5 hour exam writing workshop which supplemented No Really First Grades Are Super Important and the Forced Curve Means You Better Be On Top of Your Game with the helpful advice of "bring pens. and remember to outline."

So yes, mid-crim freak out DID happen. And, of course, the only way to solve all my problems would be to go to a bar with a bunch of girls and others in my section and drink beer. So, instead of this entire post being all complainy-face - a little recaplet of last night:

We went to a bar called Dive Bar. Clever little name. It was dark and had many leather-bound books and smelled of rich mahogany. No, not really, but it was a cute, dark little place with leather couches, tons of different kinds of beer and plenty of board/card games. So everyone kicked backed a couple of beers and played games. Which was, I think, precisely what everyone needed. Grace & I wanted to play Battleship (favorite game on earth; AKA [in Britain] known as BattleshipS) but somone else had already taken it. Curses! Instead, a bunch of us played a rousing game of Yahtzee (Grace won. Like she won almost every other game we played last night. She’s talented) as well a card game that is played with these trasnparent cards that was explained as “Just like Uno.” Which it WASN’T - but fun fun nonetheless.

Gooooood times. Today has been spent trying to decipher murder and other uplifting topics for the Impending Doom that is my crim final. And let’s not even start me on the hell-hole that is Property. Ah! No more complainy-face, I promised. :)