In two weeks, my wife starts law school.
Four years after that, she’ll finish up — and we might actually see each other for dinner again.
She’ll be in class three nights a week, getting her home around ten o’clock at night. By day, she’ll continue to work at the law firm she’s been at for the past couple of years… and which keeps her until nine or ten o’clock a couple of days a week already. That’s crazy.
I told her, ‘You’re crazy.‘
She said, ‘Yeah. But I can manage it.‘
I said, ‘But it’s nuts. Why go through that?‘
She said, ‘Well, it’ll help my career.‘
I said, ‘Career, schmareer. When’re you gonna sleep?‘
She said, ‘I’ll get sleep. It’ll be okay.‘
I said, ‘Well, I think it’s a bad idea. I might just have to put my foot down.‘
She said, ‘Yeah, right. That’s ever worked. By the way, did I mention that I can pretty much double my salary when I get out?‘
I said, ‘Hmmm. Double, eh? Wanna borrow my lucky Trapper Keeper to keep your homework in?‘
Okay, so it didn’t really go down like that, exactly. But it’s fair to say that there is a silver lining involved. Maybe when she gets out, I’ll be able to retire early — I’ve always thought I’d like to be a ‘kept man’. Nothing wrong with having a ‘sugar mommy’ around, eh?
In the meantime, I guess we’re just gonna work our damned tails off. I honestly don’t know how she’s gonna do it. She works harder than me already — sure, I get home late, and work on weekends sometimes, and well into the wee hours during crunch times… but I also go in around ten or eleven in the morning. I put in my time, and a fair amount of the next guy’s, but my alarm clock is collecting dust in a closet somewhere. I’ll take that trade, thank you very much.
The wife, though — she’s just loopy. Five in the morning, she gets up. Five! I didn’t even know they made a five o’clock in the morning. I pretty much thought the world shuttered up around two or three, soon after I go to bed, and then picked up at seven or eight the next morning, or whenever the schools open up for business. Gotta have those schools. Stay in school, kids. Suckers.
Anyway, she’s a machine. And more power to her. I don’t mind coming up with dinners for the next couple of years to help her out. Sure, that’s a helluva lot of pepperoni pizzas… but we’re worth it.
Of course, on the other hand, once she gets out of law school, I’ll never have any damned chance of winning an argument around the house again. Not that we have any arguments, really… or that I’ve ever won any of the few misunderstandings we’ve ever had. But now — now I’m guaranteed to lose. Harrumph.
Maybe I’ll have to rethink this whole ‘wholehearted support’ thing. I wonder whether it’s too late to get my Trapper Keeper back. I’d better try and talk her out of using it now, while I still have a chance. If she gets that thing into law school, it’ll take a debate team, a court order, and a fifth of tequila to get it back. I don’t like my odds.Permalink | 2 Comments