Box Of Books
Just returned from picking up my bar review books. What a flood of memories it brought back!
Anyone who has gone through bar review knows about that 200 lb. box of books they hand you as part of your "Convisor Multi-State" review, plus additional state review materials. As they handed me my box I remembered my first experience with this unweildy behemoth.
In 2003, I flew out to Chicago from Baltimore to 1) look for apartments, and 2) pick up my bar review materials. Unfortunately, I didn't proceed in this order. Upon arriving in Chicago, I headed straight for the local BarBri office to pick up my books. Little did I know, I would be handed a 200 lb. box of books. As I lugged the box outside and dropped it heavily on top of a corner trash can, I realized, this box is my ball and chain for the rest of the day. I was in for a workout.
While waiting for the hour of my interview with the apartment hunter to arrive I lugged my books from the Chicago Board of Trade building down to the art museum, stopping often to rest my arms. The box and I sat in the shade for a bit, eyeing each other with derision. Curious, I picked out a book and looked through it. Ugh. I put it back, and pulled out a book I was carrying for pleasure. It was a relationship built on mutual hatred from the start.
Eventually, the time arrived to move on. Up to Southport and School. I staggered from the museum to closest El station. After sitting on the box for a few minutes, the train arrived. Pick up box, again, get on train. Plop box on seat next to me. Observe weirdos.
Upon arriving at the Southport stop, I still had several blocks to walk. By this time, my arms were numb. Walk a block. Put down box. Pick up box. Walk a block or two. Put down box. Repeat.
I eventually made it to my interview. As my agent stood up to show me a few properties, I sheepishly said, what about the box? Toss it in the trunk, he said. So the box came with.
A few moments later, just behind Wrigley Field, I found what would later be home of 1 1/2 years. Mission accomplished. We checked out a few more properties for fun, then returned to the office. The agent opened the trunk, and, with great effort, I lifted out the box. We signed some more papers, and I had an apartment...but not for another couple of weeks. I was stuck with the box, for now. There was no escaping that day.
[sigh]
The box and I got up to leave. It was off to Elgin, a long El and Metra ride away. So it started again. Pick up box. Walk a couple blocks. Put down box. Repeat...
Anyone who has gone through bar review knows about that 200 lb. box of books they hand you as part of your "Convisor Multi-State" review, plus additional state review materials. As they handed me my box I remembered my first experience with this unweildy behemoth.
In 2003, I flew out to Chicago from Baltimore to 1) look for apartments, and 2) pick up my bar review materials. Unfortunately, I didn't proceed in this order. Upon arriving in Chicago, I headed straight for the local BarBri office to pick up my books. Little did I know, I would be handed a 200 lb. box of books. As I lugged the box outside and dropped it heavily on top of a corner trash can, I realized, this box is my ball and chain for the rest of the day. I was in for a workout.
While waiting for the hour of my interview with the apartment hunter to arrive I lugged my books from the Chicago Board of Trade building down to the art museum, stopping often to rest my arms. The box and I sat in the shade for a bit, eyeing each other with derision. Curious, I picked out a book and looked through it. Ugh. I put it back, and pulled out a book I was carrying for pleasure. It was a relationship built on mutual hatred from the start.
Eventually, the time arrived to move on. Up to Southport and School. I staggered from the museum to closest El station. After sitting on the box for a few minutes, the train arrived. Pick up box, again, get on train. Plop box on seat next to me. Observe weirdos.
Upon arriving at the Southport stop, I still had several blocks to walk. By this time, my arms were numb. Walk a block. Put down box. Pick up box. Walk a block or two. Put down box. Repeat.
I eventually made it to my interview. As my agent stood up to show me a few properties, I sheepishly said, what about the box? Toss it in the trunk, he said. So the box came with.
A few moments later, just behind Wrigley Field, I found what would later be home of 1 1/2 years. Mission accomplished. We checked out a few more properties for fun, then returned to the office. The agent opened the trunk, and, with great effort, I lifted out the box. We signed some more papers, and I had an apartment...but not for another couple of weeks. I was stuck with the box, for now. There was no escaping that day.
[sigh]
The box and I got up to leave. It was off to Elgin, a long El and Metra ride away. So it started again. Pick up box. Walk a couple blocks. Put down box. Repeat...
posted by Mike C | 5:32 PM
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Hello niice post
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