From the Midwest, to the east coast, and back again

Gino

It’s bar prep time for me. Again. All the memories of stress, brain fog, and depression are coming back to me quickly. But at least this time there is no small child banging around above my head while I’m trying to focus.

The first time I prepped for the bar was in my apartment in Burlington, Massachusetts during the summer of 2016. My SO and I had just moved into this beautiful open concept apartment on the 9th floor that had gorgeous views of a rolling woodland landscape.

 This was the view from the apartment. It didn't suck.

This was the view from the apartment. It didn't suck.

I was all set to start my online bar review course and really buckle down for the marathon that is studying for the bar exam.

And that’s when the pitter patter of little feet started on the floor above us.

When I say “pitter patter” that’s a bit misleading. The “gargantuan crashing noise monster on the 10th floor” probably does this little guy more justice.

Because we did not know his name, we called him Gino. Gino was energetic at unpredictable times of day. From the sound of it, Gino routinely threw every heavy piece of furniture gleefully to the ground before running nonstop laps around his ruined apartment. Did Gino have parents? There was no way to know. Whether they wanted it or not, there was no control to be had over Gino’s endless supply of cacophonous energy.

After I realized that there was no pattern or foreseeable end to Gino’s constant rush of movement, headphones became my refuge. Thankfully they moved out eventually and I managed to pass the Massachusetts bar. But I will never forget Gino’s tiny, stomping feet, clad I can only assume in iron boots and sledgehammers.

Bar Two

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