The house is sold

The house is sold. After one year on the market, two offers, and numerous showings, it is sold. And, with those words, it is hard to describe how it makes me feel. The automatic reaction is “Hooray! Fabulous! Great!” But, this house was more than a place to live. It was the place I called home for most of my life. And, as relieved as I am to be released from its obligations, I am also sad that it had to be sold.

My parents purchased this house in 1974 right before my dad retired from the Air Force. This was the first house that we owned that did not have wheels! (Seriously!) Until then, my family would move from place to place across America, and we would take our house along with us. We lived in North Carolina (obviously), South Carolina, Michigan, and Arizona—all before I was 10 years old—and that house went with us on every leg of the journey.

A few years after returning from Arizona, dad decided that it was time to retire, and we moved from the mobile home to the brick home on Norwood Avenue. I was almost 12 years old at the time. The street was sprinkled with a few houses; ours was the newest addition to the neighborhood. We were the first family to live in this house; and, until now, we were the only family to live in it.

In 1974 the road in front of our house was dirt. I loved to ride my bike up and down the road and kick up the dust. Eventually I obtained my driver’s license and learned to kick up a lot more dust with my first car.

Through the years, my dad and mom divorced. Dad moved to Tennessee. Mom stayed in the house. By the time I turned 18 the dirt road was paved. I moved in with a few friends (into another house with wheels); but, when my dad died of cancer in 1982, he left his portion of the house to me. When I was engaged in 1984, I moved back into the house to save money for the wedding. Ironically, my mom remarried about six months after my wedding in 1985. She moved in with her new husband, and my husband and I made Norwood Avenue our home.

Children were born a few years later. Melissa arrived on Valentine’s Day, 1987; and Wesley followed shortly thereafter in September 1988. My kids grew up in this house. They crawled, walked, and ran through its halls. They slammed doors and blasted music through the windows. They graduated from bassinet to crib to bed within the same four walls. They played in the same backyard for 18 years and shared the same neighborhood with their friends and foes during that time. We filled the back yard with a swimming pool, a fire pit, a slip and slide, a basketball goal, a toss back, a barn, and various pets, including Precious, Snickers, Sam, Abby, Boots, Patches, and Chester. We rescued birds. We watched bunnies play in the yard at night. We played h-o-r-s-e a million or more times when the weather would permit, and chess when the weather would not. We had dozens of birthday parties and slumber parties and movie nights.

The kids learned the freedom of riding their bikes around the neighborhood (just as I had) and the ultimate freedom of driving their own cars. By the time Wes got his driver’s license, our front yard was looking like a used car lot. We just kept growing and changing, and the house kept accommodating us. My husband and I divorced in 2003, and Melissa left for college in August 2005. Wes and I spent a final year in the neighborhood while we made plans to leave as well. Wes would be heading to college in August 2006, and I made plans to attend law school then as well.

I remember the day that I knew I had to tell my neighbor of 33 years (Carol) that we were moving and selling the house. It was easier to tell folks of the divorce than to break this news. We stood in her backyard and cried crocodile tears. She and I had come into possession of our homes in much the same way. Her parents had owned her home and she grew up there, just as my parents had owned my home when I was younger. We had watched each other marry, divorce, and raise children. We had mowed each other’s lawns. We could call each other in the dead of night when we were scared of a storm or we heard something that just was not right. She had a key to my house and was welcome to enter it at anytime. We could spend endless hours at the fence just catching up; and if I ever needed an egg, flour, sugar, or milk, I knew I could get it from Carol much quicker than I could from the store.

August 2006 we rolled out of the neighborhood. Wes headed to Wilmington, and I headed to Virginia. I have been to the house on each of my visits to North Carolina and I have visited Carol on many of those trips to Norwood Avenue. As elated as I am that I do not have a mortgage payment anymore, it does seem unusual to know that I am no longer a part of that neighborhood. But, what wonderful pages we wrote while living there. My kids and I can testify that it was a wonderful place to grow up, and it will always hold a special place in my heart, even though it is now sold.

Spring Break

Pardon the interruption, but I took a few weeks off for spring break. Classes officially resumed today, and spring break is just a fond memory. Before I tell you about my favorite things from spring break, let me tell you what I did not do:

1. I did not study. I did not crack a book.

2. I did not update my outlines. I did not look at my outlines. I did not say the word "outline."

3. I did not work on any projects. Yes, there are projects due (and soon), but I did not burden myself with these matters.

4. I did not read ahead. I prepared for Monday's class, and that was it.

5. I did not spend an inordinate amount of time in the library. I tried, but I just couldn't. I had the best of intentions, but absolutely no motivation. So, my library visit consisted of one afternoon where I opened the books and computer and then proceeded to waste away four hours of my life looking busy in the library. I decided that I could look just as busy at home in my pajamas and forego the trip to the library.

Whether I'll regret all of the things that I didn't do on spring break is yet to be seen. I can testify, however, that (so far) I do not regret the things that I did do on spring break. Let me tell you about my favorites:

5. Cooking.
I was able to get in the kitchen and whip up some country fried dinners that would make any southern woman proud. There were mashed potatoes, fresh green beans, and cubed steak with gravy; there was fried chicken; chicken pastry; and veggie soup with grilled cheese sandwiches. The cooking was better than any therapy session. I haven’t cooked in a while, and it was good to put something together that didn’t include curbside service, delivery, or a microwave.

4 Surprises!
I love surprising folks with a visit. Not many folks knew that I was coming home to NC for a brief visit, so I was able to surprise quite a few friends. My first surprise was when I popped in on my friend Phyllis. She had no idea that I was coming into town and it was a lot of fun driving up in her front yard and watching her run out of the house! The next surprise was Friday morning as I was leaving town. I stopped by Don Clark’s office and spent a few minutes exchanging law school stories with him. Then I stopped by the firm and got a few hugs from Bob, Shannon, Kathy, Jeff, and Karen. Bob always chokes me up because he starts every conversation with “You know we’re proud of you.” Just getting a few hugs from these folks was enough to choke me up. I had to make that visit a quick one or else I would have been an emotional wreck!

3. Going home.
I always enjoy a quick visit to North Carolina. I like to make the trips quick and pack as much as possible into them. This trip home was less than 24 hours, but I managed to get my money’s worth out of every minute. I visited my hairdresser, dentist, mechanic, and favorite bakery. I then took my mom to dinner and visited with Wes. I also squeezed in breakfast and lunch with friends. Twenty-four hours wasn't enough time to visit everyone--and I regret that--but I did squeeze as much as possible into the quickest of trips.

2. Exercise.
I really do enjoy exercise when I have the time to do it right. But, when my schedule is packed to the max, exercise is the first casualty. The weather during spring break was fabulous! And, once I recuperated a few days, I was ready to go walking and biking and hiking. It was a lot of fun to spend the afternoon in the park or just walking through the neighborhood with Melissa and Abby (the pooch).

1. Sweet Sleep.
I went to bed early and slept late. I took a nap most days; and, some days, I took two. It took at least three days for the throbbing to subside and for me to feel human again. The first three days of spring break had to be the equivalent of law school detox. But, afterward, the sleep was the most luxurious and decedent part of spring break. I’m gonna miss it.

A day in the life

Spring break officially arrived Friday at 2:00 p.m. By 6:00 p.m. I was home and in my pajamas. Some part of me certainly wanted to go out and celebrate, but the remainder of my body, mind, and spirit overruled that request, and the celebration was confined to the couch.

I did have big plans for Saturday, which included exploring some local walking trails and updating the contracts outline. The trails were never explored; instead, I walked a few miles around the track, and that took all of the energy that I could muster. The contracts outline stayed in my briefcase (the thought of studying made me nauseous). Most of the day I stayed in my pajamas. I moved from couch to bed watching basketball and movies. I was so tired. It was the kind of “tired” that you feel when you have the flu; you know, every cell of your body and brain is spent.

I can imagine that people tire of hearing me say “I’m tired,” especially those who aren’t present in the day-to-day of this law school boot camp lifestyle. “I’m tired” is usually just a blanket statement to cover all of the finite details of the days preceding. But, to be more specific, let me infuse a few details into this statement so that—possibly—it can be appreciated. During the course of a week, I attend 15 hours of class in the following subjects: Property, Law Skills, Contracts, Torts, Foundations of Law, and Civil Procedure. Except for Foundations and Law Skills, the remaining four topics will be part of the bar exam that I will ultimately take (and hopefully pass), so a firm grasp of each of these topics as they are addressed day-to-day on an incremental basis is essential.

Every night in each of these classes there are reading assignments. We must read, outline, note, comprehend, compare, analyze, and synthesize the material. On a good night, the gods may smile upon us, and we can be prepared in an hour for the next day’s reading. If that is true, be prepared because that means we are going to spend a lot of time in class comparing and analyzing this reading with prior materials. On a bad night, we may spend three or four hours reading for one subject, which is what I had to do Monday night in preparation for Tuesday’s Torts class. It literally took me almost four hours to complete the reading. Earlier in the day I could hear grumblings in the library from fellow classmates about the enormous reading assignment for the Torts class. It was a tremendous amount of reading, especially in light of the fact that we were also trying to prepare for a mid-term exam in Foundations class (where I had a 75-page outline to review).

So, you might say, why don’t you just skim? That would be about as effective as skimming the instructions on how to build a nuclear reactor.

Or, just pick out what you think is important? I’ve been more successful at picking lottery numbers.

Or, surely the professor can’t cover all of that material the next day? Yes, he can; and, history verifies, he will. Either be prepared, be absent, or be humiliated.

So, four hours to prepare for Torts.

Then we had to read about 40 pages in Law Skills and prepare a burnt offering (a/k/a assignment). Every assignment is graded. If there are typographical or grammatical errors, the grade drops 10%; if it is late, the grade drops 10%; if it is not a “good faith effort,” the grade drops 10%. Monday night, Law Skills was relatively straightforward; it took me about two hours to complete the reading, then complete the assignment, then print, proof, correct, edit, and reprint the assignment.

Then I had to prepare for Contracts. Contracts is typically the class that requires the most preparation. There is reading in the casebook, which often refers to the UCC and Restatements of Contracts. In addition, our professor posts 15-30 questions every night that he will address the next day in class. So, you outline the casebook, brief the cases, insert the UCC and Restatement language into your notes, including the relevant notes and comments at the end of each one, and then attack his questions. If I must skip anything, it is the questions because they, alone, will take hours to complete. Usually I will peruse his questions just to ensure that I have an idea of what he’s looking for, but Contracts could be a full-time job but for the fact I have five other subjects to study. So, Monday night, I spent about three hours preparing for class.

On Mondays we are out of class by 2:00 p.m. Usually I grab a quick lunch at the cafeteria and then head over to the library to prepare for the next day. By the time that I had prepped for Tuesday's classes, it was almost 10:00 p.m. That’s when I pulled out my Foundations outline and began studying for the mid-term that was a mere three days away. This took me until midnight, when the library closed. I headed home and had to wash a load of clothes before going to bed.

I was in bed before 1:00 a.m. and up at 5:30 a.m. on Tuesday to go to the gym for a quick “wake me up” workout. This gave me enough time to get to school about 20 minutes before class so that I could review my Torts notes before class started at 8:00 a.m. And this was the schedule that I had for the entire week. Get up at 5:30; leave home around 7:30; get home around midnight. Five days of that can wear a body out! And, I know from personal experience, of course; but I also see my younger classmates dragging their tail feathers too.

Even still, so much was NOT accomplished last week. I did not update my outlines in any class. I spent all of my time just preparing for the next day and preparing for the mid-term. I did not have time to use any of the commercial materials to reiterate class discussions or case briefs. I did not have time to meet with a professor to answer questions about confusing areas. Consequently, I did not have time to look for a summer job or a summer study abroad program. Basically, the day-to-day routine was just to keep my head above water and forget how tired I was from treading water.

Today is Sunday, and I am still tired; that amazes me. For the past two days I have avoided the alarm clock and just let my body sleep until it was ready to wake up, hoping that would help. I’m sure it has, but I still don’t feel like I’m at 100%. Nevertheless, there is much to do during spring break. This break is like a gift (of “time,” which ranks right up there with “air”), so I’ve got to appreciate its worth and let my body catch up when it can. If I’m lucky, I will only work about 12 hours a day; as you can see, that would be a luxury.

This ain't pretty...

Today is one of those days when I just want to quit. Yesterday I wanted to quit too. Actually, this entire week has just snowballed, careening out of control, and crashed into a Friday night when I am thinking about doing anything else on earth except law school.

Here's a thought: Bartending school only takes three weeks, instead of three years; you only work nights; and everybody loves you!

The other option is to spend the rest of the student loan on the Harley Davidson of my dreams, gas it up, point it west, and drive.

Quitting is a real possibility. The best thing about quitting is that it takes so little effort. There are no sleepless nights, no research, no drafting, editing or proofreading involved. Quitting is so sweet because all it requires is nothing. And, while you’re doing nothing, you can also do other things, like watch a ballgame, take a walk, talk on the phone, or sleep. Quitting means you get to be normal again; and normal sounds like a great place to be.

Sleep would be nice. Casual reading would be a luxury. Tonight I temporarily quit being a law student and just vegetated on the couch for a few hours watching mindless tv sitcoms. Now, I feel guilty because I really haven’t quit, and all I did was waste valuable time that cannot be redeemed. Hmmm...guilt may be a side effect of quitting that will need an anecdote.

I find myself envying my classmates who quit. They come by to give us a hug and say, "This is my last day." On the inside I am screaming, "Take me with you!" How brave of them to know that it’s time to quit, and do so. The body, mind, and spirit can only take so much; we all have our limits. I just feel like I have reached mine. The optimist will say, "oh, next week will be better." But, the truth is, all of the optimists looked at the unbelievably demanding syllabi for this semester's classes, and they quit. Now, the pessimists remain to see who can survive ten more weeks of the 1L year briefing dozens of cases per week, preparing motions and briefs, and outlining for class. The sky is not falling, but in the ten weeks that remain, the cold truth is there is no respite. So, do we wait for the official crash and burn (news at 11)? Or do we just quit and cut our losses? Either way, it ain’t pretty.