Copacetic

I was at the Carrollton Rue reading my first case for my criminal law class. Then I closed my book, walked outside, and there was my professor riding down Oak Street on his bicycle.

I'm going to be fine in law school. It's going to be a good thing. There's a certain kind of lawyer-zombie that I don't want to become, but I won't. I think I will still find time for more creative writing, too. Not everyday, maybe not every week--not during exams or other crunch times.

Even though I still like to go out, I don't have the need for the intense drinking and socializing that my 25-year-old colleagues have. They can spend their spare time and energy on that stuff, and I can spend a comparable amount on writing and maintaining some of my old life and still keep up with them in school. Plus I've noticed that I read faster than anyone who hasn't learned speed-reading and I'm a fast writer, too.

I'm still working on the essay I started on the 8th. Almost done with a draft, and then I will take it apart. I also want to write an essay about Big Star and my ex-husband and spinning my wheels in Memphis. Copacetic was one of my ex's words. Everything was copacetic, but not really.