Every day is like Sunday

Today I took my first full day off since the semester started. We headed south. Stopped at the Pacifica Peer where the husband drooled at the amount of crabs people were catching -- needless to say he is going crabbing tomorrow. Then we drove down to Half Moon Bay where we checked out a lot of boats and ate oysters. Bummer of the day when we asked for J. Lohr Chardonay and were served Rossi for $6 a glass. Otherwise, perfect.

Came home and cleaned a lot of house. While finally putting away a lot of stuff from our wedding (!) felt satisfying, I got depressed reading old essays from college. I miss the days when I got constant feedback on my work and profs had nice things to say about my talent as a writer. I miss thinking about existentialism and alternating between essays on Camus and Elvis Costello. After drinking more wine, I wrote my undergrad advisor who taught several of my writing seminars. I told him that law school is education as an extreme sport and I like that about it. But I miss being creative. And as much as I made a conscious decision that law school would enable me to be a doer as opposed to an academic, a writer/ observer...

I'm going to drink about that.