My place + running

Husband set me up a place in our tiny office for me. In the past its mostly been his space, plus and extra table for me to dump my junk at. (Y'ALL WE LIVE IN THE SMALLEST TOWNHOUSE ON THE PLANET AND HAVE NO PLACE TO STORE ALL OUR VERY SUPER IMPORTANT JUNK.) Its nice though. All my pretty diplomas and awards and junk up no the wall. We got some more storage containers (which he spray painted black and look great, I must say) and everything looks nice. We tried to stick with black accented stuff in the office instead of brown. I always felt like brown was a very particular color. Can be touch to match. Black is easy. So black it is.

I'm getting prepared to get back to studying. I'm going out on a (very expensive) limb and picking up a tutor this time around. I clearly need help. Which sucks because I've never "clearly needed help" in my academic life, ever. If I don't get some help though, I'm completely headed for defeat. As much as I don't like admitting it, I need someone to fix this mess.

I contacted a few different people, some in Florida, some not. I've decided to go with a tutor out of New York. I know I need a lot of help with MBE stuff and writing. I think I'm writing ok (flows, sounds good), I just know I'm not pointing out enough stuff.

I'm oddly looking forward to it--I'm just deathly terrified because its so expensive!! I'm so scared that I'm going to spend a ton of money on this dang tutor and still fail again. Any longer and I'm going to spend what I spent on tuition on freaking studying for and taking this dumb test so many times.

Not going to be negative. Nope. Started running again and the endorphins have really helped my mood. I'm not even a runner. I just turned on the treadmill, put on an Office episode, and before I knew it I had ran for a mile and didn't even realize it. It was great. I'm like the slowest runner ever and my face gets really red, but pushing myself like that has really made me feel like I can do stuff. I keep seeing all these dumb motivational running posters all over Pinterest:
"the only one stopping you is you"
"I wanted to quit because I was suffering, that wasn't a good enough reason"
"everything you're running away from is in your head"
"someone who is busier than you is running right now"

Anyway. Our church has started this group thing where we meet at the church one day a week for a short devotional and then we talk about one fitness topic and then go to a local walking park to start training for a 5K. BC and I are doing it because it is something fun to do together, free, and we get to associate with other church members and worship a bit in the process. HOWEVER: I am very self-conscious running in front of other people I know. We have some very fit people that go to church with us. Very fit, trim, thin. I told one of the teachers today that if I show up on Tuesday and its a bunch of skinny people I'm NOT coming back. She laughed. I wasn't kidding.

Dumb things at work.

I work part-time at a small monogram shop in my hometown. I worked for them forever ago, right out of undergrad, and before I went to law school. (Side story there--couldn't find a job to SAVE MY LIFE once I graduated from college. Ended up at a monogram shop, workin' retail. Yep. I liked it WAY better though because the owners are amazing.) Anyway, the shop has since changed names and moved to a different location in town, one with much less vagrant homeless and more delicious nearby eateries. I wandered in one day a couple months ago to check out the new location, chatted with one of the owners, and she asked if I wanted to pick up some Saturdays. Always one needing money (and possibly seeing the bar exam writing on the wall, as it were), I said yes.

After years of working in that store, I have a few stories to tell, naturally.

A fun one happened via phone this past Saturday:

*ring ring* *ring ring*

Me: Thanks for calling The XYZ Monogram Shop.

Caller: Hi, ummmm, yeahhhhh, I have a question.

Me: (already annoyed) Okay.

Caller: Yeah, so ummmmmm I have something I need to get monogrammed.

*pause*

Me: Okay.

Caller: I need to know if I brought it in, when can I pick it up.

**Note: it is 3:40 pm at this point. We close at 4.

Me: Well, if you brought it in today, the pick-up would be for the 27th. Any earlier would be a $5 rush fee.

Caller: Oh reeeeally? I can't drop it off and get it back today?

Me: Um, no, sorry.

Caller: Really? I can't do that?

Me: Yeah, no. The owner who runs the machines was in today, but we're about to close and she isn't coming back in.

Caller: Oh. Okay. Well, do you know somewhere I can take it to get it done today?

Me: No.

Caller: What about tomorrow? Could you do it tomorrow?

Me: (about to throw the phone out onto the highway) No. We aren't open on Sundays.

Caller: Really? Oh.

*pause*

Caller: Do you know somewhere I can get it done on Sunday?

Me: No. Look, this town isn't that big. Most places that do stuff like this are small shops/boutiques and they are definitely NOT going to be open on Sundays.

Caller: Oh really? Ohhhhh wowwwww. Ok. Well, thanks.


I just hung up the phone at that point. I wish there was some way to properly convey the spacey sounding voice I heard on the phone. But alas, I cannot. I'm sure you can use your imagination. I swear if that caller is the future of our generation, we're in trouble.




Also, just because you work retail, you aren't stupid. Although most people would like to treat you that way. Boo.

Ughh.

I realize that I don't update like I should. I feel like most of the time I would end up telling y'all the same thing. Bar exam, no money, life, husband, puppy, food, no money, bar exam, bar exam.

Thats how things go around here, folks.

We lose insurance coverage in 15 days.

So...that's cool I guess.

Legally Fab sent me some of her bar review books in the mail so I could check out a different study method for the next bar exam. I got them yesterday, spent some time perusing and reading out loud to hubs (which he LOVED, let me tell you), and I purchased the online section today. I'm so hoping for a different outcome this time.

I've also tried to contact with some private tutors for individualized help. I mean, being on bar attempt #4 clearly means I need some help somewhere.

I'm writing because this morning totally threw me for a loop.

I was fine yesterday. I got the books. I was pumped to get started early. I was ready. I had confidence I could succeed.

I woke up this morning shaking. Anxious from the second I opened my eyeballs. No clue whatsoever. Just a complete mess. Cried in the shower. Bawled, actually. Two issues: (1) I can't do this again. I cannot take failing. (2) The Bible says if a man doesn't work he shouldn't eat.

Remember, when we bawl our eyes out in the shower, we are not always the most rational of thinkers.

I woke BC up this morning crying, which I have learned is a terrifying way for him to wake up because he has no idea what is going on. We talked for a while and he gave me plenty of big hugs.

My biggest thing was not being able to do this again. I mean, yesterday I was fine. I was so fine with all of this. I woke up today completely anxiety-ridden. Shaking. I WOKE UP THIS WAY. I barely got a chance to think and I was already going bananas.

I realized this morning that I am completely crippled by fear. Like, full-on terror. I am under this huge weight and I feel like I can barely breathe. Sometimes I'm fine. I'm totally gung-ho and super excited and motivated. But other days....and I feel like most days.....I'm a total mess.

I've been praying for strength and peace a lot lately. BC and I are really being attacked by satan a lot these days. We're easy targets I guess. But, even as bananas as I go, and despite how much I bawl in the shower, my faith remains. I have little to no confidence in myself, which I definitely need to work on, but I have all confidence in the Lord. And at the moment, that is what's getting me through.

I don't know if anyone else feels like their emotions are on roller coasters. All this back and forth is driving me insane. I'm just trying to hold on to the good times.