Tuesday, November 18, 2008
near the end of the semester
On some days, there is very little on my mind beyond the legal argument. I’m not joking. I wake up thinking about one class, move into the afternoon thinking about another and by evening, when I am at the bus stop waiting to head home, everything seems to be about the law.
Every issue presents itself as a courtroom scene. Here’s the allegation, here's the evidence, here’s the defense, here’s the outcome. From differences I face with my occasional traveling companion, to issues that arise at work, I argue in my head with a TV version of the real thing: but your honor! (I play the role of judge, too.)
At times like this, I know I need a break. A severance. Or at least a pause. So that I can wake up and think about the fruit that should load my cereal bowl and not what arguments are to made in favor of raspberries.
Every issue presents itself as a courtroom scene. Here’s the allegation, here's the evidence, here’s the defense, here’s the outcome. From differences I face with my occasional traveling companion, to issues that arise at work, I argue in my head with a TV version of the real thing: but your honor! (I play the role of judge, too.)
At times like this, I know I need a break. A severance. Or at least a pause. So that I can wake up and think about the fruit that should load my cereal bowl and not what arguments are to made in favor of raspberries.
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