Complaining

I had a bad day yesterday. This was not optimal, obviously, but made even less so because it was the first day of the semester. Not a great time to be incredibly unhappy with your lot in life, to be sure. So let's review:

Monday I played frisbee. This, actually, was awesome. I got handblocked on my first throw as a handler (on an easy swing, no less), and was assigned the role of cutter thereafter. It turned out we had too many handlers anyway, so I would have been cutting a bunch no matter what. I spent the first two games doing pretty basic things. I threw a couple scores, floated a sweet high release forehand over my receiver's head and landed it in his hands, and that was about it for memorable occurrences before our third-round bye.

After the bye, everyone was stiff. That included me, but I wasn't about to let a little thing like that stop me from being able to run around for the first time since intramural frisbee, which seemed like ages ago. So run around I did. As I've always thought, the longer a day goes the "faster" I get (in relation to everyone else). Oh, and my captain was James Hron! That guy is pretty cool. He refused to cut deep for me when I caught the disc under, though, so I called him out on it. Sure enough, the next time I caught it, there he was, running toward the endzone with the other team's tallest player (and best receiver) on him. I floated the disc to his back shoulder and he didn't even have to jump. Sort of anti-climactic, actually, since he's one of the better receivers in the area and it would have been cool to see him in action in the air. In our third game I got a layout D! It was actually legitimate, and because it  was against Greg's team, he even said how cool it was again yesterday in class. I get to wear my scabs with honor for a while. I also threw a pretty cool score. See, there's a cable running about frisbee-throw-height across midfield (for a curtain they can slide across), and I caught the disc on the sideline only to see my receiver cutting deep. I heard someone on the sideline yell "No!" so naturally I threw it. But because of the clothesline, I had to throw it higher than normal, so I threw it with a little more outside-in and hit him in stride. People were impressed. Then in the fourth game I became our primary receiver. And our secondary receiver, actually. See, I was the only one left running as hard as possible. I had cramps in both calves by the time the game was over, but it was worth it. I would make the initial cut, catch it (under, usually), look around, see everyone standing, dish it, and cut deep. I caught four or five scores that game and threw another three. Overall, it was pretty awesome, especially for me being in the cutter position. And I got another D that game too, making me wonder if I could actually play this game. After we finished we had half an hour before the field closed, so I hung around and threw with a teammate. We were practicing hucking, and when we finished up I threw a couple full-field lefty backhands,  which made him yell that he was impressed. I went for broke and tried a lefty flick, which made it the forty yards or so to where he was standing. He asked if I had broken my arm at some point. I said "no, I just play handball." We talked for a while and he said he was sure there were plenty of teams that would be happy to have me in the area. I'll have to see what my plans are for the summer, but it's not likely, since I need to make money, not spend it, to further my ability to exist in Minnesota. But it's awesome to feel wanted, even if he was just being nice.

But that was really just a preface to explain why, when I woke up, my day was already off to a bad start. My legs were so stiff I had a bit of difficulty biking to school. Oh yeah, and it was like eight degrees. My first class was Corporations, where I was told there weren't any jobs for lawyers, that to make partner I would have to work from 6:00am to 10:00pm every day, and that it wasn't a good job anyway. I also learned about LLC's, Partnerships, LLP's, C Corps, and S Corps, but that seemed a bit less important than the extreme ennui that was setting in. He stressed that being a lawyer was all about working with people and playing the social game. I was not enthused.

I ate my apple and cashews for lunch. That was the only decent part of the day.

Property was an odd juxtaposition. On the one hand, my professor is incredibly enthusiastic about the material and is obviously trying very hard; on the other hand, the material is so boring I almost fell asleep anyway. Then came Law in Practice. It started off with assigned seats. Fine. I can deal with that. Our seats were assigned by placing our schedules at our designated area. Sure enough, my small group meets at 6:45 on Thursdays. So I can't play handball on Thursdays anymore. This is a "big deal" for me, even though I can look at it rationally and say that the people I play Thursday are rarely the opponents that make me better. And for the kicker: I'm the primary attorney for the first assignment. Oh yeah, and that assignment is due tomorrow (today), with a live client interview I will be conducting alone on Thursday (tomorrow). I do not want to be this sort of lawyer.

The professor is actually pretty cool. We start each class with two minutes of meditation and at least one poem (yesterday it was two poems). But all that did was remind me how much I'd rather be writing or reading poetry. The meditation was good though. He emphasized that meditation isn't about clearing your head, as in forcing things out. Rather, it is about letting things come and go and not actually focusing on them or pursuing them. Just letting your ideas flow through you instead of attaching to them. It was actually really helpful to think about it like that.

So I stuck out the class, feeling as though law school was the worst idea in the universe. I didn't want to work at any of the jobs I'd seen, I didn't want to talk to clients, and I didn't have a backup plan. Law school was my backup plan. It was always, well, even if I don't get things figured out, I can always go to law school. And sure enough, here I am. And when I was lacking a backup plan in the past, it was always, well, at least I have someone I love to lean on and know we will be there for each other. But now I'm in the position where I feel like I need a backup plan or I'm not going to be able to deal with it all. Because it's becoming clearer and clearer that just having a law degree probably isn't going to be enough. To prosecute patents I need a science degree (or equivalent course work), to be a tax attorney I need to murder my inner child and resign myself to never having fun again, and to do anything else my goal will be to talk to people every day and secure clients for my firm. None of these are viable options. And as may be obvious by now, I don't deal well with the unknown.

I've been trying pretty hard to take the meditation approach to all this and just let the ideas come and go without getting too stressed out about the fact that none of them seem any good. But when it's my entire future, it's not that easy. So to compensate, I ate three doughnuts. The apple fritter was delicious, the glazed with chocolate frosting was delightful, and the cream-filled chocolate was sublime. And then I was sick to my stomach and still wondering what the hell was going to happen to me. So naturally, I climbed on my bike and sallied forth into the snow that had started to fall in the zero-degree air, headed to handball league on my legs that still didn't quite work. Our team looked at the lineup we would be facing and decided we had the best chance of sweeping if I played doubles. So I did, and we lost horribly to two players I'm pretty sure I could beat on my own if any one of at least three conditions had been changed (slippery court, partner miscommunication, glass back wall). Luckily, we still swept singles (staying undefeated as a team), but I felt awful. I played singles with David and tried until I hit an amazing no-look behind the back shot. Then I stopped trying and he won easily. It got to the point at the end that I was yelling at myself to run and still just wasn't moving to relatively easy shots. I got a ride back, ignored my homework, and fell asleep rather than give myself any more time to feel sorry for myself.

Oh yeah, and during my doubles match, I got frustrated and kicked the wall. As usual, the wall didn't give much. I bruised my heel. That didn't help me play any better, which made me more frustrated. So a couple points later, I punched the wall. It prevailed yet again. So my knuckles are bruised again. Perfect.

And that is where I will stop the complaining. I woke up around 2:00am and watched tennis. That is where today began, and it has been a bit better ever since I saw the majesty that is Roger Federer in action. That guy is a wizard with a racquet. He is apparently healthier than he has been in a while, and has switched racquets and playing styles. I still think the thing that has changed the most is his mental game, but whatever the reason, he played beautifully. My classes today weren't much better than yesterday, but it turns out that just being busy and unhappy is distraction enough from the big-picture-unhappy that I got through the day without any more major drama. The angst is at bay, at least for now. I'll dress up pretty, do my client interview, and I'll deal with it. Thanks for reading!