Can it get any worse? Apparently yes.

I'm sitting here on this couch, with unwashed hair, for days, doing nothing other than STILL trying to get through all my income tax notes, taking procrastination breaks to eat (vast amounts of chocolate) and watch stupid tv, or read online blogs and wishing somebody would put me out of my misery. That, in a run-on sentence, pretty much sums it up. Ok, so yesterday, I did manage to force myself to go for a jog and for some minor food shopping. But that is about all, as far as variations from this routine go. I say that I'm "going through my notes" instead of "studying" because this is what I'm doing literally - going through my notes, as if for the first time. Apparently (and it has been this way pretty much all through law school, with the exception of very very few classes which I found intellectually stimulating), I am able to sit through hundreds of hours of lectures and type almost every word that comes out of the professor's mouth without actually hearing ANY of it. So that when I'm finally reading through my notes with the intention of LEARNING the material, it is literally as if I'm laying eyes on all of this for the very first time. Remarkable really.

By my calculations, this crawling process will leave me with only 1 day of actual "studying" time. This is because tomorrow, a huge chunk of my day doesn't count, as we are going to see The Producers. Not that I am complaining - procrastination to see The Producers on Broadway is certainly better than my 4pm Oprah break, although I am starting to completely fall in love with Oprah during this awful time in my life.

And as if things weren't dire enough, when I was complaining to Vadim last night about how the thought "I want to kill myself" runs through my brain about a gazillion times a day during this income tax "studying" fiasco, he told me that income tax is a walk in the park compared to the summer that is ahead of me. Naively, I asked why. He explained, very reasonably and calmly, that it's because during that summer, I will have to spend every waking moment trying to commit 3 years worth of law school material to my memory - that's right, not just a semester's worth, but 6 semesters' worth (and each one with NUMEROUS subject areas). I just don't think I can do it. I wasn't cut out for this - why did I ever think that I was? I have no idea! Since his explanation sent me into an even bigger panic, he started to apologize profusely and told me that he only was trying to HELP with this little piece of advice - to make me realize how benign income tax studying really is.

And back to the never-ending: Wedding Planning. On monday, after I am done torturing myself with income tax and taking the exam (I heard a rumor that the professor never gives anybody less than a B, please let this be the truth) I am going with my future mother-in-law to visit another florist. A good one this time. We decided to refuse to deal with the bitchy florist from a few posts ago, and the wedding coordinator guy agreed to give us a $1500 credit. So, now hopefully things will work out, at least regarding the flowers, seeing as how this florist is a former coworker and friend of my future MIL. I don't know why I bother saying "future," because it certainly feels that she is my mother-in-law already. Just like it feels like Vadim is my husband already. I mean, is anything truly going to change after the wedding? How is the way in which we live now any different from how married people live? Other than nomenclature of course.

Yesterday, on Oprah, I watched an interview with Clara Harris - the dentist who attracted fame because she ran over and killed her cheating husband with her Mercedes. The part of her story that really got to me is when her husband was explaining to her, over dinner, what it was about the mistress that made him seek her company over the company of his wife. He gave so many "pointers" that she found it necessary to jot them out on dinner napkins (which were later introduced as evidence in court). All his suggestions had to do with the physical attributes: the mistress was thinner than the wife, etc. So, in this desperate attempt to keep her husband - Clara Harris rushed over to a plastic surgeon's office, and scheduled a bunch of procedures - ranging from liposuction (of course) to a face lift. She also started getting her hair done in a salon each day, along with her nails. Furthermore, she quit her job as a dentist to devote all her time to her family. It just makes me absolutely sick listening to such stuff. I'm not going to get into exactly WHAT bothers me about it, because it is so many aspects of it, and because I must get back to... you guessed it, Income Tax.