Writer's Workshop--Scary run in with a professor

I really am pathetic, in that I decide to do something, and then jack around until I almost miss it.

I said out loud that I was going to start participating in Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop. Then, I do not know if you noticed it, I did not actually do any true participating.

But I am on it--late, but on it. I chose 4.) Write about a scary encounter with one of your old professors from her Writer's Workshop prompts from Jan 14--that would be last Wednesday.

Oh my but there have been so many. But one just happened, and is still happening, so I am going to tell it. I am not naming the professor because because with my luck, he reads my blog and then I will be even more embarrassed. I will just call him Wild Bill. Like he won't know from the story who I am talking about.

Wild Bill was my Crim Law professor my first year of law school. All of your classes your first year of law school are pre-arranged--you do not get to pick them, you do not even get to pick your professor, you are just given a schedule. I got lucky and got Wild Bill, who even looked like a crazy person, but was rumored to be a lot of fun. He was also clearly a genius.

I, however, did not give a shit about criminal law. It was one of the last things I ever intended to do with my life. (Note the irony there) It also unfortunately met at 3 on Monday, Wednesday and Friday--which made Wednesday afternoons very difficult as Wednesday was quarter beers at Garfield's. That is the sort of thing no self-respecting law student would ever pass up--and even if you intended to go just to hang out, that never worked, and you ended up rushing back to class with a buzz on. Missing class was unacceptable in law school--two absences per semester was all that was allowed, or you were bounced. Otherwise, who would go? Not me, for sure, not after going to quarter beers. It would have been a very empty class.

Another rule of law school and attendance is that you have to sign in if you are present. Present means you have read all the assignment, briefed the cases and are ready to be called on. During the first year, being called on is the absolute most terrifying thing that can happen to a person. The professors use the Socratic method and some are actually gleeful at tripping you up. The worst thing you can do is sign in as present and not be able to answer the questions and make it obvious you had not prepared for class. Thank sweet Jesus that never happened to me.

Anyway, because I cared so little about criminal law, I was in a bind come finals time. Your finals grade is the only grade you have normally, so it is a one shot deal. I had to cram like a mad woman just to get competent to take the exam. Since it was first semester, I had no idea what exams would be like --with my kind of anxiety that was an absolute nightmare.

I got my first exam out of the way--Torts, it was on Wednesday afternoon. I was up early and studying at 6 am with a study group for the next exam when things with my father-in-law went downhill and we were called to his town to be with him as he lost his battle with cancer. I missed all the rest of my finals, and had to arrange to take them when I got back. I took Crim Law by myself on a day when my boys at Illinois were playing UConn and all I could think about was whether Barry could be trusted to record the game properly (note: he could not. And Illinois lost.) I tried my best on the test but I could not focus with all that flying around in my brain. I think I left about ninety minutes into a four hour exam.

That was how I got the worst grade I ever got in law school. BAD. Like if that had been my average, I would not have been welcome back for second year.

As you move into your second year of law school, you get to know everyone really well, including your professors. I remember clearly being at a thing at a bar and talking to Wild Bill about what I really wanted to do--and teaching at a law school was, at the time, high on my list. I asked his recommendation on how to do that. He had to have a trick, I thought, since he was clearly crazy and even a Harvard Law degree can be squashed by craziness. His advice was that I get the absolute highest grades, and that would get me in. Then he started laughing, and of course, I started laughing because we all know I had sunk that ship already with that one bad grade.

I give you that huge story all to set up how I had the scary moment recently.

I was in someone else's office doing something when a secretary came for me telling me Wild Bill was on the phone. I almost passed out just from fear. What could he want? Did he maybe re-grade my exam from 15 years ago and decide I did in fact fail, and thus, should be disbarred? Did he want to remind me that I am in no way qualified to be practicing criminal law let alone explaining it to other folks? I could not imagine.

Off I went into my office, got a grip on myself, and answered the phone. It is not like I dont see him at the Law School when I am there doing business--like giving a presentation, hiring people, helping out with random things. I have seen him here at court as well, and we are friendly, and he is always nice and has never mentioned what a dumb ass I was. I was chiding myself about being such a weiner--none of those things were going to happen, for Pete's sake. I am a grown woman who knows what she is doing. What I was doing was being an idiot.

You know what he wanted? To talk about one of my cases that he was considering getting involved in. Perfectly reasonable thing. And no, he was not taking it because I am too dumb to handle it--not at all--but because the family hired him because he is the best. Most families think it is a curse to have what they call "bar association" attorneys represent them, and when it comes to appeals that is not true at all. But hell, I cannot argue with the family hiring someone of his caliber, and am glad to get it off my case list, so I can move on to someone else who cannot afford private counsel.

It constantly amazes me that things that go on in my head can scare me so much--like my insecurities are yelling at me. He has never done a single thing to make me scared of him or think that he can see in my head to know what a fraud I feel like sometimes.

Don't you wish you could erase all those silly things from your brain and just move forward from where you are right now, instead of being haunted by what might have happened a long time ago?