Sleeping in > Civ Pro

I've got a brutal schedule. Brutal for me, anyways. Twice a week I'm forced to drag my exhausted carcass into class at 8 AM. The other days aren't as bad, I guess, but they're still rough on a guy who has spent the last year waking up at his own leisure. To make matters worse, the 8 AM class is Civil Procedure, and it's only taken me a few weeks to realize that it's my least favorite subject. Combined with the fact that my section is taught by a man who I've heard classmates refer to as a "Nazi" and "The Anti-Christ," I knew it was only a matter of time before I'd lose the energy to get myself out of bed and succumb to the warmth of snuggly* sheets.

*Yeah, I said snuggly. Why? Because they are.

That day came a week ago, Thursday. I woke up a bit late, but with more than enough time to eat, shower, and walk the five blocks needed to reach room 2B of California Western's main building. But no. I'd briefed the cases the night before, felt confident about my understanding of them, and chose sleep over ridicule.

For those who haven't had Stiglitz, let me explain. Most of my other teachers are more of the nurturing mother archetype; they'll ask guiding questions, in a soft, friendly tone, and laud you for what you gleaned out of the case. Stiglitz, on the other hand, is the hard-ass father you'll never be able to please. Nothing is ever good enough. And he'll not only let you know how badly you fucked up, but he'll tell the entire class. Needless to say, he's not a favorite among the students I've spoken with.

To be fair, I actually kind of, maybe, like the guy. He's a bit intimidating, sure. No one wants to have their intelligence picked apart by someone who inspired one half of the grumpy old men who heckle the other characters on 'The Muppets.' But all kidding aside, I think I'll get more out of his class than any other in which I'm currently enrolled.


He does look a bit like Statler (right), for what it's worth.

A few days ago, I was randomly called on to inform the class about Rush v. Maple City Heights, which dealt with a the civil version of double jeopardy. In truth, I didn't feel that confident about the case before class began. And I felt my heart skip a beat when he incorrectly pronounced my name, but god forbid I correct him that it's "Buh-Row-Knee" and not "Buh-Roe-n." I didn't even get through the facts of the case before he acosted me for my use of the phrase "said bicycle." The class seemed to enjoy his bewilderment with my verbage, but I didn't understand (and still don't) why it was so funny. Despite that, I was able to accurately explain the inner workings of the case and felt amazingly proud of myself afterwards. More importantly, I now know that case better than any other case I've studied so far in law school.

Still, that's unlikely to keep me from catching up on much needed sleep. The great feeling I referred to earlier in regards to discussing a case in front of the class still can't compare to those snuggly sheets.