Had the interview today. Seemed to go well, but sure as shit if I talk about it here it will all go to hell. At this point I'm hoping to at least get a kindly rejection letter...which, let's face it, is a step up from my usual craptacular consolation prize of UTTER AND COMPLETE SILENCE. Here's to hoping.
I'm working on a couple of long posts, so I'll try to write something substantive in the upcoming days. Or I'll sit on my ass drinking Diet Coke by day and beer by night squandering my entire week off. Either way.
Don't forget that this upcoming Sunday is the first installment of the New and Improved Weekly Law School Roundup, so hook a sister up and send me some funny links. I think we're going to have a theme, but you have to email me to find out what it is because I don't want to blow the suspense. You know, the suspense that the three people actually paying attention to anything that happens on this blog are deeply immersed in right this moment. And, no, the theme is NOT "holy shit I'm so hungover I hope a truck hits me and I die before my liver feels well enough to grow thumbs, buy a gun, and shoot me right in the face."
Here's something you don't know about me. I know all the words to every song on Shamrocks and Shenanigans.
