Friday, January 20, 2006

Plans Foiled?
I came to law school to pursue a career in environmental law. I am finally taking environmental law this semester. I am disillusioned. I am not sure I really enjoy the class, but it is too soon to draw firm conclusions.

First, we have been discussing a lot of boring stuff, like economics. Mostly economics is what gets my goat. I learned a lot of economics last semester, in the context of environmental law and in other contexts. I'm afraid it's going to be all economics, and frankly, I don't want to spend my life doing economics if I can help it.

Second, some people are just now going through the realization that economics has a great impact on environmental law. Fortunately, I went through this struggle in a very small class and was able to, very vociferously, air my concerns and scepticism. Some of my classmates in my class of 60+ people, are struggling with it now. And for many people, the environment is a very personal cause. They enjoy nature and they want to protect nature because of, I surmise, feelings and thoughts that seem to be grander and greater than simple dollars and cents. So in a scenario in which the professor put environmental laws next to workplace safety laws, some crunchy girl in the back raises her hand and says, Isn't the environmental harm different because it's permanent? Well, so is losing your arm in a workplace accident, honey. I do not like people who use classrooms of 60+ students to air their personal grievances. Frankly, I probably shouldn't have aired my grievances in a class of 6. So part of the reason why I don't like this class is I fear it's going to degrade into stupid debates. And I have a general impatience with people.

Impatience is probably a generous term. I generally don't like a lot of people. Maybe that explains why I'm keeping to myself. I want to get away. I'm like crawling out of my skin. Maybe I have senioritis, without the rash and without the actually being a senior part.

Except for the hair. For some reason, I decided to do a thorough examination of the state of gray in my mane. Now, I found my first gray hair when I was 12, so I'm used to them. But that, compounded by my age, which keeps getting higher and higher into respectable adult territory, well, it's no fun. To make matters worse, I seem to be currently going gray along my part line, so every time I look in the mirror, I see several gray hairs.

I should probably sleep.

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