LOCKDOWN

That's all, folks.

Finals season is nigh upon us. I, for one, have four finals, and regard them much as one would the four horsemen of the apocalypse.

This means, unfortunately, that we must enter LOCKDOWN.

LOCKDOWN involves a rather strict regimen, and, for the next month, I will be garrisoned on the third floor of the library. On occasion, the guards will allow me to go get a sandwich from the nearby mess hall. Twice a day, I'll get to see the outdoors. Once on my walk to the tower of terror, then once more on the return.

It's actually a lot like house arrest, if you think about it. There is zero to none chance that I will see downtown Boston until finals are over. Restaurant meals will be non-existent, unless that restaurant is Chipotle, and that meal is eaten on the elevator up to my apartment. Movies, books, television and the like will have to be sacrificed. Being a lawyer better be awesome.

And going out? No way. Absolutely not.

...

Maybe. Maybe once a week. Maybe I'll go out once a week. But things have to change. These can't be the usual drink-until-you-can't-see days of yore. There have to be standards. Limits. The three drink minimum has to turn into a three drink maximum.

I can't afford to spend full days in the fetal position, praying for death. Instead, I must pass my days in the sitting-hunched-over-a-book position, praying for death.

A small difference to some, perhaps. But to those of us staring at finals like bunnies stare at the cold, dark nozzle of a shotgun, that difference may be the difference between a misfire and a head-shot.

I'll still blog. Writing this inanity should be a helpful respite, if only for a few minutes, of trying to decipher the tax implications of reverse triangular mergers.

So farewell, dear friends. I'll be back soon.

All I ask is that, when you drink and make merry, I pray that, upon clinking your glasses, you will pause for a moment and consider the plight of your poor friends, captive at the law school, shackled to their laptops, eyes bleeding from the exertion of reading. And I hope that you will take a moment to recognize their distress, and perhaps even take a sip in their honor, for it is them that you will remember on that fated day when the police lead your bewildered behind to the slammer, and you need someone to tell you just what exactly involuntary manslaughter entails.