Happy Dance

Tremendous relief! Joy! Happiness! Peace on Earth! Goodwill towards men!

Michael "Mick" Tarkington is my hero. I loooove that man! He has rescued me from spending 19 hours per week in the depths of Rogerson's torturous dungeon of Law Clinic hell. Now, I only have to work "four or five" hours (and you can bet your socks it will be 3 hours and 59 minutes!) per week. I am so thrilled! Drinks all around!

Intellectual Property this morning was the usual. Sitting in the dark. Overhead projector. Powerpoint documents made into overheads. Professor Mathews going over each bullet point. One--- by--- one, slo--ow--ly.

Business Associations wasn't much better, but at least Professor Rogerson doesn't use overheads. Randall, the Highlighter Guy, is like a new man. Ever since he survived being called on by Rogerson on Friday, he now can't stop talking. He answers every question Rogerson asks anyone. Out loud. I think we have created a monster. The funniest part is that he is usually wrong. So, when the poor student Rogerson has called on, who is standing there in mortal fear as he tries to come up with an answer, then hears Randall's wrong answer, he repeats it to Rogerson. It's not pretty.

After Business Associations, I was walking out with the crowd when I heard someone calling for me. It was Professor Rogerson up at the podium, surrounded by suck-ups who wanted to impress him with their rehearsed suck-up questions. You almost could hear the "Jaws Theme" as I made my way up to the podium; I just knew he was going to kill me in front of everyone. Rogerson sort of smiled, which is never a good sign. He has a decent smile and cool laugh, but if you encounter either of them while face to face with him, it means he is laughing AT you. You have done something he considers stupid, and he is going to humiliate you.

When Rogerson finally spoke, he shocked the heck out of me. He said something along the lines of "Ms. Morrighan, I hear you would prefer not to work 19 hours a week in Law Clinic..." Like he's never heard such a thing before in his life. I sort of nodded, I think. He said, in a really creepy tone laced with kindness, "Well, all you had to do was tell me. If you want to work just four or five hours a week, of course that's fine with me. Just go by and give your schedule you want to work to my secretary. You've been doing such a good job in Law Clinic that it's a shame not to have you 19 hours, but we certainly understand if you NEED to cut your hours back. Next time, just come to me, all right?"

I thought I was going to throw up on his shoes. He thinks I'm doing a good job? Since when? All I had to do was tell him? How many times did I tell him? A million? And the part about if I "NEED" to cut my hours back... If I didn't know better, I would think it was meant to convey a tone of "okay, but if you do this, you will be sorry." I spit out my reply real fast, "Allrightthankyou," like it was all one word. Then I got out of there as quickly as possible. I went straight to his secretary's office, had to track her down in the breakroom, and told her I wanted to work two hours today and two hours on Wednesday and that's it. And, I'll let her know about next week's schedule before Friday.

Thankfully, Rogerson didn't come down to the Law Clinic while I was there today. Kevin and I headed back to the law library again to research cases on negligence. Then, I basically left everything with Kevin, told him I'd see him on Wednesday, and wished him luck. He told me Rogerson sent a memo to Rachel letting everyone know a new student will start tomorrow. I sure hope that new student knows what they are doing.

Free! I'm free!

Now all I have to do is figure out how to handle Tarkington...