everywhere i turn in law school there's a fourth (or fifth in my block's case) year student with his or her head buried in some reviewer. people have been sharing bar review techniques and have been comparing reviewers. i see that you can now see my once-favorite labor teacher in three different venues all at the same time (malcolm theater, 4th floor library, and the AVR in the law center).

the bar fever has begun.

i, on the other hand, commercial law flunky and official stalker of barry (funny how that rhymes) have spent a whopping 21k on bar review (15k for ateneo and 6k for books and photocopies) but have not even begun to review, save for the perfunctory highlighting of the first couple of pages of each new book i've managed to buy. five minutes ago, i was staring at an empty page unable to write the memo which will condemn a very careless student into plagiarist's hell. i am likewise unable to force myself to begin reading for a class i will begin teaching next week. and, while the prospect of working with the medical action group somewhere in cubao sounds a wee bit exciting (if only cause it will bring me near cafe bola), my brain refuses to begin thinking about completing my summer class requirements even with barry's promise that i would have to exert more effort to flunk that subject than pass.

last night as i was exchanging SMS with a friend, he brought up how i should not have time to be lonely, sad, mad, angry, frustrated, or depressed because i should be gearing up for the bar examinations. tunnel vision, he said.

however, after five years of juggling work, MA, and law school, not to mention occasional boyfriends on the side, i've apparently lost steam. imagine being five kilometers away from your destination and being unable to make it there. that's how i feel.

partly lost. partly like the way i felt when i was five and i was in cash and carry and i couldn't find my mommy.

maybe later i'll unload my car and finally begin with tax. or labor. or remedial law.

it doesn't matter.

i do know though that it's time to stop feeling bad for the million and one bad things that have happened to me and begin doing something about it.

but first, as my now-missing-but-formerly-every-single-day-text-mate has told me in the past, it all begins with a side trip to the parlor.

gilbert (my amazingly cute stylist from bench fix-podium), here i come.