Energy Drain - Bar Admissions and MuMu

I'd like to explain why I've had no energy for blogging or doing anything else these past few weeks.

I don't know if I'm allowed to talk about the bar admission course I'm taking. Everything we do seems to have a warning attached to it that goes like this:

Please note that all information prepared for this assessment process must be kept confidential. Failure to adhere to this paragraph may be regarded as "Academic Dishonesty" under s. 43(3) of the Licensing Process Policies.

For all I know, my sharing this note with you is such a breach. So let's just talk hypothetically. Imagine you're in a room with 24 people who have just completed their second or third university degree and you have an instructor asking them questions like "How do we communicate with our clients?"

And then the instructor waits for people to raise their hands. And keeps waiting.

And finally a hand goes up and the hand-raiser says, "on the phone? by email?"

"How else?"

I'm the guy who just shouts out "politely".

When the instructor didn't like that answer, I went back to being the guy who just shouts out the obvious answer right away so we don't have the long cricket chirping silences. Until the instructor asked "do we only write contracts so that the lawyers involved can understand them."

"No," I said.

"You don't have to answer so forcefully," said the instructor, "you could say, 'not necessarily'." Now we're back to the cricket chirping silences, because I'm not into unnecessarily equivocal answers.

Alas, as much as I've admired my fellow law student colleagues, I lost some of my optimism last week. Here's a sentence I used to begin a summary in a memo last week about a letter that our "firm" received by mistake:

This letter is like a live cobra that has been tossed through our window. It may have already bitten us, but if we handle it with care, we may escape further harm, get the anti-venom in time and possibly, but not likely, turn it to our advantage.

My fellow firm members deleted the sentence.

Do you see why I feel like my energy is being drained?

Don't play this game

Then here at home, I came across that damned game MuMu because somebody asked if I could find something to occupy their mind^Note1. I had my computer game addiction down to only about 20 minutes a day before this. A MuMu game takes me about 40 minutes. And when I finish one game, I want to play another. I must have spent six or seven hours playing it yesterday. And I'd promised myself I wouldn't play at all.

This morning I played two games and got a score of 653 on my second game. That's a darned high score and I'm hoping it will satisfy me enough that I never play it again. If you're smart, you won't follow the link I've imbedded into the screen shot.