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Post-mid-term for the postmodern

Today my section had a Constitutional Law mid-term exam.  It won’t even count towards our final grade but people have been on edge about it for a week.  Some people were eve freaking out about the practice test for the ungraded mid-term.  needless to say, stress abounds.  In the meantime the days are getting shorter and colder.  I am mourning the loss of evening sunshine but it does make it easier to forgo any frolicking in favor of fastidious scholarly work.

Though the first few weeks seemed to coast by with only occasional cognitive hang ups, the sheer volume of material has complicated even the most founded of ideas.  The hazy fringes yearn for more lucid classification but are no less stubborn in resisting it.  The integrated image, of legal education and each individual class, is scattering like a frayed television signal.  Also, the pace only quickens and the work put off for tomorrow quickly becomes unfinished from last week.

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre / The falcon cannot hear the falconer; / Things fall apart;

the centre cannot hold; . . . the blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere / the ceremony of innocence

is drowned . . . ”         The Second Coming by William Butler Yeats

However, there are always the warm kindly faces of the fellow students I have come to empathize with to offer solace, cheer, or at least understanding.  Pretty much all the faces become familiar here but there are always those that somehow come into a closer orbit, with whom one can share more confidently and comfortably.  They are essential to sustaining a center, to maintaining a life.

“Surely some revelation is at hand”

What familiar name slouches toward my study corner?

In any event the days will click faster as the solstice looms.  In the house the wood furnace is burning.  Yeats wasn’t quite postmodern.  I don’t think I’m quite post-mid-term, though I am through taking them.

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