Fear and loathing in a firetrap apartment

It's less than 36 hours until the bar exam. Holy You Know What.

As I told T over dinner tonight, I am alternating between terror and tranquility, feeling petrified and feeling peaceful... afraid...and accepting.

But he doesn't need me to tell him that. He's seen Dr. Jekyll and Mrs. Hyde both out in full force over the past weekend. Yesterday, he came home and started trying to fix our broken-in-a-three-digit-heatwave A/C while I was stretched across the floor listening to a lecture on corporate officers for the umpteenth time. "T..." I shouted, as he vacuumed dog fur from the vents, "what you're doing is REALLY ANNOYING!"

"I KNOW!" he called back. "I'm just trying to help, you know."

At which point, I wanted to hurl my giant book of MBE questions at him, but refrained probably out of heat exhaustion rather than actual self-control. Five minutes later, I'm pretty sure we were both asleep. At 6:00 p.m.

Between the heat and the stress, it's been a real bucket of sunshine up in these parts. I just can't wait 'til it's all over. And I pray I won't have to do it again.