Well Sean, it's good to know that at least one of us is going to be having fun tomorrow. I won't be. I'll be taking the bar. People have been asking me lately if I'm nervous about it, and I'll give the world my answer right now: no, I'm not nervous, there is no room for nerves when you're overcome by despair.
I've spent three years in law school and another couple months studying for the bar exam, and it occurs to me that I know next to nothing about the law. It has also occurred to me that perhaps I should not have arranged my law school schedules with the single goal of making sure I had Fridays off (and Mondays as well, if possible). Also, I should have perhaps showed up for Constitutional Law more than four times (even though the professor was the worst).
For some reason the same lines from Tennyson keep popping into my mind:
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
Of course, I do not wish to see my Pilot face to face on Wednesday afternoon, but, leaving that aside, the poem was clearly written specifically for the nonce. It's the connection between "crossing the bar" and death that seems appropriate.
I don't think I'll fail the thing (I just knocked on wood a bit too hard and did significant damage to my knuckles), but I do not relish the thought of two straight days of bending my fingers out of shape answering questions about "negotiable instruments" and other equally dreary subjects.
By the way, negotiable instruments class was taught on Fridays, so I have no idea what they are.