the thin line between optimism and delusion…

In class, or anywhere for that matter in which I am a member of an audience, I have the uncontrollable compulsion (rather a redundant phrase, but I have dramatic tendencies) to volunteer if no one else does. I’m telling you, it is a problem. It doesn’t even matter who is giving the speech (if you want an example of how far this goes, check out my comment on this post by Evan), I will interject. The worst part about this compulsion is that I am completely ADHD and I don’t pay attention well. So 90% of the time that I volunteer I don’t actually know what is going on. Let’s apply this to my week so far:

On Tuesday in evidence, at the end of class, Professor Carlson asked for two volunteers for Wednesday. One person stepped up. And then there was silence. SILENCE. NO RESPONSE. Until of course, I raise my hand and volunteer. I missed two classes of evidence last week. I haven’t read. I honestly don’t even know what I have volunteered for. I was spacing out. So, I look at the piece of paper I have been given, and it is information relating to a police officer, and the skit is between a prosecutor and the police officer witness for identifying a knife. I am under the impression that I am the witness. I don’t know what led me to believe this, I actually even argued with others after class that I was the witness and not the prosecutor. But I do read the chapters in the book relating to the situation Monday afternoon.

Wednesday morning, I read over the information that I had been given, and I am ready to be the Officer. Carlson calls us up to the front. Turns out, I’m the prosecutor. And I am suppose to have questions prepared for my witness, the police officer. I explain the problem to Carlson, and he replies, "Well, Charlsie, would you like me to give you an extra day to prepare?" Now, here is where one of my other compulsions comes in. I will never pass. I will always give it a shot, even if I have no idea what is going on. Plus, I had plans of going out Wednesday night, and I didn’t want to have to worry about doing the skit Thursday morning if my night got out of hand. So I go get my book, and wing it. I think it went okay.

Wednesday night was fun, didn’t get out of hand, but was a great time with lots of people that I love, admire and thoroughly enjoy. I woke up late this morning, rushed to get to con law, was five minutes late, and didn’t know what was going on most of class. Right before con law Christian asked me where we finished in evidence yesterday. I told him I had no idea, after all I had contributed, and expected to be off the hook today.

We all know what happens when we assume. I walze into evidence after con law, and notice my name on the board, under the heading, Carlson’s Mighty Law Players, along with three other names of students in the class. I kinda get nervous. Carlson starts class off by saying, "if your name is on the board, and you haven’t checked your box since 3 pm yesterday afternoon, I suggest that you leave class immediately and check your box." I really start to sweat.

In my box I found a memo attached to a script for a court room case. The script was about ten pages long and indicated that we should read through it a couple of times before class, because we would be performing it in class. There were four of us involved in this, and only one discovered the script before class. I was the expert witness. It was actually a hilarious imaginary case, and ended up being tons of fun. Brent told me that this probably meant that I would picked on for the rest of the semester. On one hand, this isn’t fair and seems like I am being punished for volunteering. But on the other hand, I like doing the skits. I am flattered that Carlson thought I could come through on short notice. Also, if I know I am going to be held responsible, I am more likely to keep up with the reading. So this is all good stuff.

I just wish he would learn how to use the computer and email us instead of putting stuff in our boxes, which I check about once a month. Maybe I will start checking my box more often from now on. But what is a day in law school without a moment of sheer panic and horror?

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