Deep Breaths II

She's right.

Well, partly, at least. If I want to be a successful lawyer, I can't half-ass my work. It'll be doing both myself, my clients, and my society a disservice. But it's unfair to compare the work on the outside, the work that acutal lawyers do, with the monotanous, trivial shit that encompasses the life of a law student.

I'm 23 years old. And I'm not about to live my life cooped up in a library. I'm not about to spend every waking minute chained to a textbook. If that means that my grades suffer slightly, I'm fine with that. But I'm not, and I've never been, fine with the idea that less work on my part will negatively impact the life of someone around me.

Whether I like it or not, and whether she even meant to or not, my professor has motivated me. By not allowing me the chance to compete in the Edwards speech competition, I've decided to sign up for an opportunity to display my skills and actually try to enjoy part of law school: the Gill.