For any of you who don’t know anyone who has been in law school, law school finals are a special kind of hell. For most classes, your grade for the course is determined entirely by your grade on the exam. For someone about to graduate, this poses the additional challenge of making the most important two weeks of the semester coincide with the time where there are social events left and right. For someone about to graduate who doesn’t have a job, there is the additional-additional challenge of the overwhelming, soul-crushing sense of WHAT WAS THAT ALL FOR?1
So I have sort of demanded a wedding-planning hiatus. Even though we’re coming up on the imaginary one-year until our imaginary wedding mark. And even though we don’t have a venue yet. But every time I look at a wedding-related spreadsheet, my heart explodes with panic, so it is a necessary irresponsibility.
Meanwhile, Collin still thinks this is all very fun. So I’ll be sitting on the couch grumpily editing a paper about executive privilege and government officials’ use of private email accounts, and Collin will excitedly shout, “GARDEN COURTYARD!”
I firmly remind him, “No wedding stuff!”
He says, “Oh, sorry, [insert pet-name of the moment.]” Seconds pass. “Server solely dedicated to the bridal table!”
“Well, that seems unnecessary. Wait. NO WEDDING STUFF.” I start flipping through my tattered Bluebook to figure out how to cite an email republished on a website.
“Oh, so Pittsburgh has a Grand Hall and a Great Hall. That’s confusing.”
“So is executive privilege.”
“Sorry, my sweet little cutie little law student. I’m just so excited to marry you!”
Isn’t that nice? I’m so not complaining about Collin’s interest in wedding planning. But I do feel bad that my anxiety about finals and graduating are vastly outpacing my excitement about getting married and having a wedding.
1Someday I’ll tell the long (embarrassing) version of how I met Collin, but the short version is that his now brother-in-law was in my study group during my 1L year. So the only immediately apparent point of getting my J.D. was finding a husband. What a relief for a feminist.