The Life of a Sloth

I think my brain is wilting. I imagine it might be as my peace lillies were when I got home from my last trip, sort of droopy and a little bit brown, and very thirsty. That's how my brain feels, three weeks after the bar exam began. I've been traveling a lot, and until yesterday morning, have barely been home. I haven't unpacked from my trip to Naples (Florida, not Italy) and am only just about un-hung-over from Saturday night's monster post-bar-exam bash. The time off -- about 5 weeks from the end of the bar exam until I begin my job -- is flying by, too fast, too blurry and I just want it to last, for it not to end, to keep having fun and being outside and traveling and seeing a lot of the people I love to see.

I feel clunky writing again, after time away, clumsy as I type. And yet I know that it's one of the primary ways that I remain connected to myself and the world around me, and that it will feel good to get back into the groove. No writing = bad sign. This happens periodically, I know... I stop writing for one reason or another (in this case, bar exam and post-bar-travel) and then the writing thoughts just build up in my brain, piled higher and higher and higher, alongside the unreturned emails or phone calls or mail, until it's just about ready to trickle out, dribbling out of my head onto the page. The trickle turns stronger, then soon a gush, and well, here I am. Good to see you again.