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A long summer swiftly closed

Outside, cool winds are blowing over the leaf sprinkled grass and rippling the surface of the White River.  The partly overcast day lets skylights of sun down to the earth to play over the hills and vales of South Royalton.  When the solar spotlight falls across the green outside the library windows the summer instincts rise up.  The sun is out! Lets go swimming! Lets go tubing!  Lets go for a hike and have a barbecue!  The urge is nearly irresistible.  Many times this summer it got the better of me, even when I had hundreds of pages and the occasional paper hanging over my head.  And I think that is ok, for the most part.  I was in class all summer after a grueling 1L year; I deserved some fun time.  And that is what I got some fun time.

Now it is too cold for the coolly rational to take a dip in the river (although I would still gleefully partake).  More importantly, there is just too much to do and get in order around here.  Everyday is another meeting, a task, readings, outlines, and reports — not to mention law review work and student research positions.  Oi yoi yoi.  The tenor of summer, albeit almost equally full of work, has lowered into a soft growl, something like old water heater in the Vermont countryside.  As chlorophyll drains from the leaves and the melanin flees my limbs the austere atmosphere of law school settles back in.

Already I have spent more hours in the library than ever before, possibly than all last year combined.  I used to avoid the place, like the plague.  I would study anywhere else I could.  Now it is comfortable.  I used to prefer heading home and relaxing a bit before setting down to work, now I have not even a ten minute drive of clear head-space.  Whoever sold me those pipe-dreams of an easier 2L year sure ripped me off.

At the same time, the work feels much different.  I have lived here for a year now.  I am well acquainted with the town (except, of course, for all the new students) and the grounds.  The library has become more of a home.  I spend much time in the study rooms working over obscure sources to check authorial citations.  I still visit Chase, Yeats, and Hoff to read sometimes (my older haunts), but I rarely go home with the (realistic) expectation of working.  Mostly, this is due to the fact that my room is in disorder and disarray because my absent-minded, bumbling (albeit goodhearted) landlord attempted to ‘renovate’ it late this summer.  As, at least i expected, the project quickly loosed itself from any schedule or budget my landlord tried to impose.  The whole story is too long and upsetting to lay down here, but essentially, I didn’t have a room for the first week of school.  Now that a ‘room’ is technically extant, once again, for me to occupy I am in the full swing of school. See supra above (haha).  With class, law review, and student research I work late into the night, every night — including weekends.  When will I ever have time to put my life back together in that shambly ‘renovated’ space is a mystery, one that I dare not dwell on lest I lose my mind.

Regardless of that situation, the reigns of education are firmly fixed, the bit is in my mouth, and the books are on my back.  Summer has swiftly closed and the school year will not wait.

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