The WALL, Phase 2

Welp, I've done the improbable. I'm a 2L (i.e., second-year law student) who just hit The Wall.... AGAIN.

What is this "wall"?

Well, I could describe it in metaphor...
The Wall is an unyielding giant, holding up a sword... no, wait, something cooler... A dragon, holding up a light saber and screaming phrases only law students would find life-threatening...
"You'll never understand the statute of frauds!!"
"That firm didn't want you because you had spinach in your teeth during your lunch interview!"
"If you hadn't stepped out to pee that one time, you'd still know what was going on in Civil Procedure!!"
Yeah, dragons and light sabers are as far from cool as you can get.... I know. But I'm a dork. Cut me some slack. 

Or, I could describe it in simile...
The Wall is like a motivational speaker standing in front of a curtain... and you just feel the passion, and you have hopes, and are ready to work for dreams, and just when you start to think "I'm good enough, I'm smart enough, and doggonit, I have the right tolerance for pretentious people and alcohol!"... just then, when you access your inner Sarah-ness, the speaker pulls back the curtain to reveal everyone you've ever seen in your "Oh Crap, I'm Pant-less in Public" dreams laughing hysterically, and worse, in slow motion.

Or, I could just describe it by just saying what it is... for me, at least.

My Wall
As a 1L, I hit the wall a few weeks into law school. I was working, and studying, and maintaining relationships with loved ones back home as best I could, and barely staying on top of things.
Sadly, I didn't realize the "barely" part.
See, law school involves a lot of different expectations.
... Some profs demand you read 50 pages every night just for their class, and know them all by heart the next day, all for that 0.5% that you're called on.
... Some spend weeks covering boring history, and lecturing, showing power points, calling on no one, and making you feel all secure and happy-- only to storm into class one day with a glimmer in their eye and a smirk in their smile and say, "Ms. Bridges? You remember the facts of the case you read for the first day, I'm sure?" ...Oh, yeahhh, that case I read a month ago...? about 27 nights of sleep back...? about two or three nervous breakdowns ago? (Side note: sadly, most profs only call me "Ms." once. After they see who they're calling on, it's "Mrs." from then on... How depressing. But I digress...)
... On some rare occasion, you have a professor who actually gives you a clue as to what you'll be expected to cover, and when! Your heart soars, you feel elated, you think, Great! I can know EVERYTHING about this case, now that I have head notice!... and then, you look at your pages, and you've been assigned a case in British courts, circa 1652, when they still spelled "colour" with a "u"; or was brought by the Securities Exchange Commission on the basis of a violation of Section #Something of Some-Act-No-One-Knows-About; or had to do with (gasp!) the statute of frauds.
And then.... when all that happens, at once, on the same day... and your best bud gets upset with you for not answering a call while you were in a mandatory, 20-reasons-you-aren't-good-enough-to-sit-for-the-bar lecture... and you guzzle a glass of milk at home, just to find it's two weeks old because you no longer have time for the grocery store... and you realize you've had the wrong book for one of your classes all along, and WORSE, you thought you understood that class just fine... it hits. THE WALL.

My first year, I thought I had a handle on things the first few weeks. I definitely studied way more than I did in undergrad-- since I never studied in undergrad. I went to classes way more than I did in undergrad-- since I only occasionally went to class in undergrad. And, after leaving my amazing family, selling my home, and quitting a job better than anyone should hope for, I definitely cared way more than in undergrad (no joke here). And then, a few weeks in...
... Crap, I have 250 pages to read tonight??
... I have three hours of ICW's to do tonight?? (I cannot even remember what that stands for; they were supposed to teach us how to do legal citations on a try-and-fail-and-try-and-fail-and try basis... Whatever their real name, they should be renamed "HTDAOCDPNF"-- "How to Drive Already-OCD People Nuts Faster.") (fn1)
...And I'm supposed to be up at 4:45 am to teach spin??
Well, all would've been fine, until...

MY POWER WENT OUT.

In a new town.
Where I didn't know people.
When I was about to be an AOCD person driven NF.
Where it was 105 degrees outside.
And the only damn flashlight I could find, per usual, was my cell phone. This was My Wall.

Luckily, my trusty flashlight was charged, so, before using it, I called my sis-- who understood me. I cried, freaked out, cried, freaked out, and got snot on my flashlight.
Then, I used my snotty flashlight to gather up my books in my darkened house, and proceeded to the nearest chain restaurant I knew, since I'd had no exploration time to find good wi-fi places.
And wouldn't you know, it was On the Border!
And wouldn't you know, I'd already had dinner!
And wouldn't you know, I'd grabbed the wrong book, and had nothing to do there but to drink a marg and wait for power at my house...
...darn the luck!

Ok, anyway.

Moving On
I thought that was it. The Wall sucked, and I was lucky to hit it early, luckier to have a sis who'd been in professional school, and I even saw many friends hit the same Wall. In fact, some of my girl pals hit The Wall a tad later than me, and I felt like it was meant to be that I could identify with them and encourage them the way my sister had me (HA! as though I was sooooo much wiser... I should've just given out J's business cards!).

Even then, little did I know....

I hadn't really hit The Wall. I'd jumped The Hurdle.

I thought that was a wall?
Now, I'm standing at THE Wall. No.... actually, I've hit it, and since I'm hard headed, and stubborn, and a little too determined, my head is still slammed against it, pushing as hard as it can, with all it's giant-headed might (insert Calvin and Hobbes image...?). And THIS, my friends, is a Wall.

This wall's bricks?

The first inch... All. The. Dang. Reading.
Whoever said the workload gets lighter the second year either (1) lied or (2) spent the second year in a comfy job after having quit law school! And whoever said, well, it doesn't get easier, but you're so adapted to it, it seems like a breeze!!... well, bite me. A 140 mph wind isn't a "breeze," it's Katrina... Go get a job with that You're good enough, you're smart enough guy.
My assignments are huge, and I have a whole new challenge: people who are taking classes only because they are crazy about the subject matter... can you say Gunner-ville? (look two more inches deep.)

The second inch... Law Review.
Oh, yeahhhhh... Law review is great on your resume, Law review can help you be published, All the best firms want law review students.... Ahhhhhh! What about the truth: law review is HARD. And it takes a lot of TIME that you don't have. And you have to teach yourSELF how to do it. And, oh, don't forget... It's INTERNATIONAL law review... Um, I barely know U.S. law, thanks, much less the laws of foreign nations!! My research topics are supposed to be about groundbreaking cases and changing laws of other countries-- how do you know groundbreaking changes when you don't know what the heck the law was to begin with?? ... and I can hear the over-positive people now: Come on, Sarah, it's a bit of work, but it will all be worth it!! Just find a foreign law you're interested in and see what's going on! ...Oh, yeah?? Easy to say-- ever tried to learn the old laws on hydraulic fracturing of gas wells in France when all their laws are written in (shocker alert!) FRENCH?? Hahaha how about I throw a middle eastern county in there?

The third inch...  The Gunners.
Will they never go away?? It's like some awful horror movie monster... they always walk slower than you.... and talk slower than you.... even their arm, trying to grab you, is reaching out at the speed of the US postal service... but somehow, they NEVER GO AWAY!! You can't run, you can't hide-- they're there!! They will never leave. They will never be absent. And they will never, ever stop asking totally asinine questions. (fn2)

The fourth inch... The Interviews.
Oh God, the interviews.
And the callbacks.
And the disappointments.
The phone calls saying you got a callback-- or the letter, saying you didn't-- or, worse, the checking, and checking, and checking for that letter saying you didn't-- only to hear they already hired someone, months ago, and just didn't bother telling you.
The sprint to the mailbox, to see what's in, then the full-minute mental debate, trying to figure out if whatever's in there is better left unread.
The tiny "ding!" every iPhone user knows, alerting you to a new email, the hope it's that sweet recruiting girl you met a few days ago, then reading that it's just a (67th) reminder to get your flu shot.
Or, the worst. A call, missed during class, from an unknown number... BUT it's from an area code matching the firm you just interviewed with, and had your heart set on.... AND the first 3 digits seem so memorable, they could only be that firm... PLUS you know no one gives rejection phone calls.... Which leads to an awkward shuffle to the bathroom to check that golden voicemail, even tho your professor doesn't like bathroom breaks... A frantic self-dial... Only to hear nothing on the other end!!... So, then... A quick trip back in the classroom... then to whitepages.com, and, a few seconds later... A realization that the call was your internet provider, offering some new damn service you don't even care about because you're now heartbroken.

The fifth inch... well, I have a fifth. Sixth. Seventh. More. But sadly, the fifth is sleep, which somehow becomes the 2L's worst enemy after hitting The Wall, Phase 1.
And, as I have an entire 3-day cite check to do in 24 hours; and still need to catch up on reading after missing four classes from just one harrowing callback; and have to teach an inner-city, 60% ESL elementary class of 32 fifth graders about the law in a few days for part of my pro bono hours; and need to figure out why on earth you would have to pay income tax on damages from being sexually harassed but not from being bonked in the head; and finish that scholarship app, since law school don't pay those bills; and prep for my next interview, since that call wasn't from who I thought it was; and start working on those outlines, since finals are just around the corner..........


SMACK!!!!


Ouch. Yeah. Hi, Wall. Good to see ya. I'm sure you remember me. Only last time, I bumped into you by mistake. This time, I know you're here. I'm not coming at you with a snot-covered cell phone flashlight... I have a dozen interviews, three suits, and a respectable set of grades under my belt....
...what's that? That doesn't scare you? Well, Wall, consider yourself Jericho, because I also have an understanding family and great set of friends behind me, a perfected knowledge of business cocktail spots, an accepted law review casenote topic, AND a prof who doesn't like gunners!! (see fn 2) How about THAT?

All in all, I'd say the wall's a'crumblin' down...
...Hopefully there's no more dumb enough to stand in the way third year!


(fn1) ICW = Interactive Workbook Citations. Loosely translated, a mandatory book 1L's must spend $36 on, only to realize at the end of the year they never used because all the exercises were conducted online. EX: "Hey, Sarah, what's this book under your coffee table?" "Oh, that? That's just my unused ICW-- I use it to balance my table because no one will buy it back."
(fn2) (Oh, by the way, this is how i have to read cases. There may be 200 of these "fn's" in one little bitty case. And, to make maters worse, I only put this second footnote [i.e., "fn"] in to give props to the one professor we have who consistently shuts down gunners...) To the prof who, on the first day of class, renewed my spirit by responding to a would-be gunner's question as follows: 
Gunner (holding SMU coffee mug & leaning back far too casually in his completely-non-reclining chair): How should we expect relations with the U.S. to change now that [insert country we hadn't discussed in class] has [insert some random legal action that we hadn't gotten NEAR to discussing in class] and that resulted in [insert some incorrectly-used legal term that we would NEVER get near discussing in class if YOU DON'T LET THE PROF GET PAST INTRODUCING HIS DANG SYLLABUS!!!!!!]?
Then, after a ten second silence, and only after that pristine moment of awkward realization for the gunner and hopeful victory for the other 99 students in the room, our professor responded in his Jersey accent, resounding like a chorus of angels: Now you tell me, what the hell does that have to do with formation of partnerships?! (pronounced: now, you tell me, whut da hell does dat 'ave to do wit foh-ma-shun of potnaships?)
... yes, to you, Oh shutter-down-of-gunners, I have devoted a footnote. I'd love for you to feel special, as you totally made my day... but honestly, no on reads these. Sorry.

Girl's Day Out!

My Mama and sister came to Dallas! Well, technically, they came to Southlake-- due to some apparently-gigantic college game, there were no hotels near me! They came in Saturday just in time for a chat-filled lunch at Mi Cocina. Then, off to SHOP!! Oddly enough, we barely bought ANYthing... Except mayyybe a few margarita-induced purchases at their new favorite store, Francesca's. I love seeing my mom and sister. Somehow, it's like talking with them hits my "reset" button and unloads any feelings of stress, doubt, or fear I didn't even realize I was lugging around. My mom and sis are, of course, my dearest friends. I am so blessed to have a soulmate for a sister, and a mom who can advise and help like a mom, but who is still the kind of friend I talk with till two in the morning. We haven't had much time, just the three of us, in the last few years, so this trip was even more special. We laughed over memories, gossiped about our lives, and shared some fab Mexican food-- as always.

One of my favorite parts of coming to that point in life where your parents are also your friends has been learning about Mom when she was about my age. It's funny, how you just assume things when you're younger, figuring them out or determining them on your own, and then find out later you were so off base! I love asking Mom all the random questions that come into my head about our lives, her marriage to my father, her youth, anything. I love that we can share!

The other GREAT part about this point in my life? Well, simply put, life gets SO much easier when you finally realize that mom is almost always RIGHT, that arguing with her is a waste of time, and that everything will just be easier if you follow her advice! (Not that I'm good at it yet, but I do have it figured out...) Mom doesn't tell me, at 28, what to do any longer... Which is why I find myself repeatedly picking up the phone, dialing home, and asking her advice... "What would you do, Mom?"

My sister does even more than just hit some reset button in me. Being around her cements my knowledge of who I am. Around Jen, I am funny! I can make her laugh. A LOT! And I'm not a nerd-- but if I am, it's ok. (Well, ok, I'm always a nerd.) I can say ridiculous thing or share hidden secrets, only anticipating that Jen won't judge me like the rest of the world-- and instead, she tells me she feels the same way! I love my sister.

(Sister going "in the map", a la Joey on Friends, to help us find the stores we wanted in Southlake Town Square)

Thanks for the visit ladies! I look forward to as many more as we can possibly manage-- maybe without the same Mambo Taxi experience though!

A thought for the day....

I was raised in a house where the words "shut up" were not allowed. We had to respect each other. Treat each other with love. Telling someone to "shut up" shows them you don't care about them, or what they have to say, and that you have no respect for them.


I wish more homes would have a No "Shut-Up" Rule.

And now, the Amazing POLESKI SISTERS!!!!

(By the way, that's meant to be yelled in your biggest wrestling-announcer voice.... I don't know why. That's just how I feel these girls should be introduced to the world... Anyway.)

The first two girls I met here in Dallas were the one and only Lauren & Kristen Poleski. When I came here,  I lucked into a job (thanks to a "meddling" stepdad and a generous contact from my old job) with Venable Royalty. These beautiful sistas worked there, too! In fact, the first day I walked in, my new boss called them in to catch me up on the project I was supposed to help with... And intimidated doesn't even begin to describe how I felt! These beautiful, poised ladies were well-dressed, graciously smiling, and, of course, friendly (which in girl world basically means I couldn't just hate them because they were so pretty!). They showed me the ropes, asked a bit about my life, shared a bit about theirs, and that was about it.

Yeah, right.

Like any blog I'd write would end THAT way!

Little did I know that these girls in the next few weeks would become some of my closest comrades, partners-in-crime, wine buddies, obssess-over-guys-and-how-dumb-they-are confidants... Everything! Kristen is about four years older than Lauren-- just like me and my sis. And much like me and my sis, they are best friends and soulmates! Being around these girls made the miles from home feel shorter. Every inside joke they shared reminded me of my best friend back home-- but these girls aren't the kind to leave you out of those inside jokes! They pulled me in and let me be a little part of their sisterhood-- in fact, one of the biggest compliments I got after I moved here was at a parade for work, where we were asked more than once if all three of us were sisters!

These girls have been through it all, and have held each other's hands through struggles that would make weaker women fall to pieces. And, what's more, they come through all of this with a smile on their face and a laugh in their heart. They've helped me laugh, and seen me cry, and sung with me to every Glee song known to man. More importantly, they are the kind of friends who actually got this wallflower UP and DANCING around the living room like a fool during one of our amazing, unforgettable, (you-only-regret-it-a-little-the-next-day) girl's nights.

They even love animals-- both sisters have to cats, and Kristen also has a semi-nuerotic dog, who, by the way, loves me. They've even tolerated my texting them pictures of MY babies!! What kind of friend does that??

So, without further adieu, a few other reasons these girls forever have my heart...

...Gas Station Treasures!!
These silly girls collect and gift what are known as "Gas station treasures," precious little gifties from their journeys together. I've been the recipient of a few of these lovelies! Hahaha first were my Wippity-Wipes, only the most absorbent and well-named disposable towel on the planet! But Nothing tops these two gems...

From Lauren-- rock magnet telling me to "relax"... appropriate, as law school was making me insane!

And from Kristen-- random tiger animal on a candy stick! Which is appropriate because, well, it's awesome.

...Sweet, selfless hearts!
These girls are ALWAYS thinking beyond themselves-- they focus their love on others daily. Just one quick example:

Flowers from my darling Kristen, when she knew I'd been having a bad day.

...Possum Kingdom or Bust! 

My Poleski's share our love for the lake! And they share the ability to appreciate the time away, the water, and the peace without having to buy $100k boats or spend every last penny they have on gasoline for sea-doos. They get the joy of just BEING there.

Me and Miss Lauren

Me and Kristen, and of course Toby!

So, in short, those are my girls! They've made this transition into my new life so much better-- actually, at times, they were the only things making it bearable! I have been so blessed by them. I cannot wait until we are 90 years old, wearing ridiculously-loudly-colored track suits and gold shoes, drinking chablis and talking about how crazy we used to be! Love you girls.

A week of thoughtful living

Been thinking lately... I really miss who I was back in high school.
Fearlessly myself. Unapologetically, happily, fearlessly me.

My mom would call me her "rebel"-- but she said it smiling, and I know she loved me being exactly who I was.
What I miss most? I'm not sure. High school Sarah was far more selfless. She was equally shy but less reclusive. She was determined and never once had a victim mentality, but always an "I can do that, "I can be that," "I can make that happen" mindset. She had random different hairstyles every day, and didn't ever wear jeans (not sure why...). She knew who she was, but wasn't prideful about it-- simply content with it.

So, I want her back. And I'm going to do something everyday this week to remember her, or maybe just wake her up!

Today:
Live outside myself. Yep, I'm shy... but that doesn't mean automatically preferring to be alone, or thinking only about my life when plans change or things get messy, or ignore a friend's call or text just because I'm feeling hermit-ish.
Today is a bit abstract, but it kind of ties in with tomorrow.... We'll see how this goes!

Tuesday:
Keep living outside myself, and...
Do an act of kindness... Note I didn't say random act... Random somehow implies it is for a stranger, or someone you aren't close to. Those are wonderful, and if that is the act I see, ok, but I don't think acts of kindness-- on-owed and un-earned-- to people you LOVE mean that much more.
Day one = success! Keeping a lookout for my act(s) of kindness today.

Wednesday:
Keep living outside myself, and...
Do an act of kindness, and...
Do something you used to LOVE but haven't in awhile!... By the way, this really backfired on me.  I chose to (drumrollllllll.....) go rollerblading! I used to blade for hours a day, all summer long. Well, I'm not as young as I was, and my fear got the best of me, as did some broken glass.... Let's just say my leg is angry at me, and I can't sit down very well!

Thursday:

Keep living outside myself, and...

Do an act of kindness, and...

Do something you used to love but haven't in awhile, and...

Enjoy your hair again!... I used to always "fix my hair... and by fix, I don't mean stand under heat for hours to straighten, or let it air dry while constantly scrunching and obsessing over "imperfect" curls... I mean I did FUN stuff! Braids, twists, you name it. Did a waterfall twist today... I miss having FUN with my hair! When was the last time you treated your hair as FUN and not work?

Friday:

Keep living outside myself, and...

Do an act of kindness, and...

Do something you used to love but haven't in awhile, and...

Enjoy your hair again, and...

Don't say anything negative!... About my life, or anyone else's. I may have been serious when I was young, but I was positive, an optimist. I remember not understanding why people were upset about things, because I always looked at the other situation. I remember in elementary school, when everyone was making fun of a kid who, in the wealthy school I went to, didn't have much money. I asked, "What's so wrong with Charlie?" The answer? "Duh, he has cooties." I think part of the reason I didn't fit in at that school was that I was the kind of kid who then said, "That's dumb. Cooties don't exist."

Charlie actually did end up being kind of a trouble kid, the kind who talked back to teachers and would never do what they said... But then again, I bet I would too, if kids had been making fun of me since kindergarten. 

I glanced yesterday at my status updates on facebook. The last three? How much I hate Thursday, how hard my life is, etc. No more!! Time flies when you're busy, and I think half the reason is that you're just always waiting for the next fun thing-- the weekend, 5 o'clock, a vacation. So, no more negative. Enjoy the moment-- if I'm not loathing right now and waiting for tomorrow, maybe life will slow down a bit. 

Probably the hardest thing this week, and I'm sure I'll mess it up plenty. But at least I'll try!
(A quick update: yep, I've already messed up... still trying though!)


* And on another note.... doing "good deeds" feels so nice. So goes that old saying, "If you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering up someone else." Even selfless deeds make YOU feel good when you do them, right?? Well, introduce new struggle: when people take good deeds for granted... as, sometimes, they do. And they don't appreciate them, or they toss them aside, etc... 
...Oh, well. A good deed done is a good deed done, and the point wasn't to make MYSELF happy, so I can't exactly gripe. We'll try again tomorrow!

What you really say

"Who you are speaks so loudly I can't hear what you're saying."

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

I've always loved Emerson.  And this simple "actions speak louder than words" quote has always hit my ear in an interesting way.  But lately, it's been more of a question than a witty accusation... 

Is who I am speaking so loudly that what I say doesn't even matter?

...What about you?

A few examples... 

These Christians showed up at a Chicago Pride Parade, not to protest and spread hate, but to apologize - and not for the way homosexuals in general are treated, but for things they themselves had done. The man hugging them?  Well, duh-- obviously, he's a float dancer! (I had no clue either... except that he was probbbably part of the parade... I had to read a few articles.) I was stunned by the humility in these Christian people's actions... what words are harder to say than "I am sorry" and "I was wrong," unless it's all those words together? But I was equally, if not more, impressed by the man - who has probably felt the sting of misguided hatred more than I could ever imagine, but threw it all aside and ran to love on these new supporters. (By the way, the main man in that probably-sweaty squeeze is a pastor, who blogged about this great experience and keeps in touch with the float dancer through email.)

And no, this isn't a comment on what the Bible says about homosexuality. (Then again, Jesus didn't exactly put caveats in His word when he was chilling with "thieves" and "prostitutes"...) It is only a comment on what Jesus said about LOVE.

This is a simple note left to me by an amazing friend. Yes, it's silly - and that is the point! This gal spreads happiness wherever she goes. She left this on my car on a day when it was below freezing, windy as heck, and just straight nasty. And that definitely counts... but what counts most is that she thought beyond herself. She cared to make someone's day better. She saw my car there, she thought of me, and she instantly went to thinking about something that would make me smile - and that wasn't the only time! I can tell you from my heart, this young lady has no hateful or hurtful words to say - but, if she did, everyone would just giggle at them... who she is speaks SO strongly, those words would just come out as squeaks! 

I'm sure there is a much-more-worthy pic for this one, but I've put it on my body for a reason. If you don't know, that is half of Proverbs 31:25.... (Sorry, Mom.... I really am!) This chapter makes me take pride in being a woman, but humbles me in many ways... I have this tattoo because I believe in what was put forward in that chapter - but is what I'm "saying" with it somehow a substitute for who I should be? This chapter describes a woman who wakes early, before all her family, to provide for them (I literally debate the necessity of brushing my hair in the morning, hoping for an extra ten seconds in bed)... She opens her arms to the poor (As I selfishly consider myself to need more)... She works hard, with strong arms (While I whine about having a "tough week")... She makes sound and well-thought-out financial decisions (As I DIE for the one day every week I spend $4.50 on Drip coffee!)... Most importantly, "She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come." 

I have never "laughed at the days to come."  

I worry.  

I have never had such faith and such an unfailingly beautiful view of life that I knew that whatever the days brought, they would be good. 

Proverbs 31 wasn't written by a woman about how amazing she was. She didn't sing her own humility, her work ethic, her faith, her love for those around her, or her strength. This chapter doesn't begin with "She says: ..." This is an outside perception, what another around her saw and realized as who she was.   You don't hear what she says... because, simply put, who she was spoke so loudly, no one could hear what she was saying.

(BTW, it has been thought to be Solomon who penned this, but was probably another, less-known man... most importantly, whoever held the pen, this chapter was God-inspired - which means this is what God saw her to be.)

Maybe it will always be a goal - something like perfection, always strived for but never reached. I'm not sure, but I'm hoping that at least tomorrow, "who i am" speaks louder. 

Ah, sweet sweet sounds of...

I overslept this morning, due to an amazing sound.

No, it wasn't the rain on the windows. I didn't even notice the rain, even though it was positively pouring outside. And yes, I'm one of those people who LOVES sleeping when it is raining. To me, rain is God, saying, "Sarah, you seem tired. You should take a nap."

The sound was actually an absence of sound. The sound I heard, one I haven't heard at night for almost two months, was the glorious sound of my air conditioner shutting off. 

I have literally not heard that in AGES. And it keeps me awake!

Now wait a minute, Sarah, you might think... Who doesn't love a little white noise?

Well, I do. Believe me. I love sleeping to rain, remember? But with bills the way they are, and heat the way it is, and my poor sweet little air conditioner working its heart out every night, striving for a comfortable sleeping temperature for me but never edging below 80 degrees.... well, the air conditioner is no longer a soothing sound. 

Especially when you're trying to sleep and you're seeing visions of an evil electric bill dancing in your head.

ESPECIALLY when you're seeing those visions and your house is a swampy 80 degrees.

It took me awhile to realize that I wasn't just sleeping past the momentary breaks in my A/C's struggles. But after nights of listening, I finally determined that my A/C was, in fact, never, in my eight hours of shut-eye, getting any shut-eye itself. Thus, the sound that was once white noise became worse than a smoke alarm with a failing battery, or a baby just on verge of waking, or that pesky alarm, still somehow going off after being sent into "snooze" a dozen times (Doesn't it get the point by now? I don't want to get up!)

So. Last night... it wasn't the rain. It wasn't the thunder. It was the absolute, sudden silence of my A/c taking a break; then, instead of restarting moments later, extending that break into a little nap; then, actually turning that into a full siesta. It didn't even bother me a half hour or so later when the A/c flipped back on, happily chugging away, because somehow, it actually sounded cheerful. Rested. I could almost hear the tune of "Whistle While You Work" in it's whooshing of air, and as I slept, images of pickaxe-toting dwarves danced in my head.

Rain, I appreciate you every time I sleep, be it naptime or nighttime. But today, I thank you for another reason. I thank you for the rest for my air conditioner... the possibility of a thinner electric bill.... the equal possibility of a thicker wallet.... and most importantly, for sleeping beautifully through the night and waking to a home with a resting A/c unit and a blissful temperature of 72 degrees. 

Thanks, rain.