Remembering

I’ve had two great weekends, two weekends in a row where I’ve suddenly felt a whole lot better about things. Maybe it’s because the sun has finally shone and I’ve basked in it, or because the cute guy from my yoga class is the waiter at a new cafe I went to, or because I’ve walked up Mt Vic both times. Or maybe it’s just because I’ve hung out with my friends. I’ve done both at the same time even, been out of the house, with my friends.

So yeah, the amount of work on my desk dictates that I probably shouldn’t have spent three hours by the beach last Sunday after brunch and not studied, or spent nearly two hours mulling over a single long black at another new cafe this arvo, or meandered through the farmer’s market on the way back from my walk.

I really wish I didn’t care about my grades, even though I never intend on using my legal knowledge for a moment after I graduate (I actually laughed in my friend’s face the other day when she asked when I was going to sit for the Bar) but I’m not one of those people who just don’t do work (I think it’s an immigrant thing). But my Maori Land assignment is pretty sub-par and, right now, I don’t care because later on, will I remember the grade I got? Probably not (unless I fail, then I’ll probably remember) but will I remember sitting on the waterfront with the sun on my face, the smell of the coffee, the feeling that it’s all going to be just fine? I hope so.

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