Postcards From the Edge

I apologize for being such an absent blogger, but these days there is so much going on that I cant stop to write. This is the complete opposite of my usual state in which I have vast amounts of time and nothing to write about.
I have had to run on three hours of sleep today. Woke up at 4 a.m. so I could catch a ride with my teammate. Three hours of soccer practice (Coach Wing reinstated me to striker today. Ha! In your face, Cynthia P!), a quick shower and a caffeine fix later, I had to dash off to Hall of Justice, sans breakfast, just in time to log in at exactly 8:00. I sat through yet another three-hour stretch of court hearing. Today, it was a wife who wanted her husband (who works in Saudi and wires her money every month(!) declared legally dead(!!) for purposes of remarriage(!!!). By 10:30 my stomach was grumbling. Marlon breathes in a lungful of my perfume (he thinks I dont know that he does this), gives me a weird look, and whispers *you remind me of that story they tell about the Energizer Bunny and someone putting the batteries in wrong-side-up. . . he kept on coming, and coming, and coming. . .* I had a late lunch on the go. I demolished two ham and cheese bunwiches in the taxi on the way to driving school. My driving instructor had me drive from the Driving Academy in Kauswagan to Xavier *any way I knew how.* He should maybe have been a bit more specific with his instructions. I ended up approaching Xavier from seven different directions in the span of three hours. Then it was off to study at the over-crowded, under-ventilated Law library for me. Had classes from 5:00 to 9:00. Civil Law, Commercial Law, Criminal Law, Remedial Law. Time slugged by like a herd of turtles stampeding through molasses. Had dinner with classmates where it was everybodys considered personal point of view that the beer tasted *fizzled*(?). Afterwards, Lloyd drove me and the girls somewhere for our badminton death match. *Somewhere* turned out to be Alwana Country Club where my maternal unit is a member so I had to skulk around hoping I wouldnt bump into her. I am 22 years old, a Law student, and I have a 10:00 curfew. Go figure. The death match was inconclusive, the warring teams decided to abandon the game for siomai at Starmart. And of course, the food trip turns into a *few drinks,* Jan calls everybody up, people start to arrive in fours and fives, and within a few minutes, half the XULaw Senior class sat huddled under giant umbrellas, guzzling beer by the keg. Someone suggested a game of spin the bottle and I found myself tongue wrestling with Jong, the movie buff classmate who only seldom interacts with human beings who arent nine feet tall and two dimensional. The impromtu party finished up at around 2 in the a.m. Ruel tried to break the sound barrier driving me home (which arm was it again that goes numb when youre having a heart attack?). And so, here I am, chronicling my day at blogspot when really, I should be getting myself some rest. But, like they say, no rest for the wicked. Imma gonna hafta log off now, I still have the 32 chapters of Civil Law to study for. And tomorrow, it begins again, all over again. . .