After my first encounter with our property professor in his office hours, I don't know if I'm brave enough to do that again. When he puts you on the spot asking a question, I sometimes feel like I'm staring at the wrong end of a loaded double-barrel shotgun.
Maybe my old landlord was right. When she heard that I intended to go to law school, she took one look at me and told me it wasn't the right choice for me. Mind you, this was within the first 15 minutes of meeting her for the first time.
All I know is that I have moments where I doubt my choice of being here wildly. Usually this occurs when it's 3am and I know that I have to get to Property in five hours, and you never know when the professor will decide to start class a minute or two early like he did this morning. I always remember that I could have gone to work for a magazine and clawed my way up the fashion ladder like everyone else expected me to. Deep down I think I chose to take the LSAT and go to law school to prove to everyone that I'm not the ditz that everyone thought me to be. Whatever my reasons, the fact is that I'm here now, and I'm not going to wimp out in my first year. Not just yet, anyway.