You and everyone else around you.

I should stop posting that I'm taking a break from my legal studies, because at this point, everything I do is a break from my legal studies.  Today, I am sick of doing torts.

Since I started law school, I wa kind of banking on not having to deal with the same difficulties as those I dealt with in undergrad: most importantly, the difficulties people around me seemed to have with spatial awareness.  I hoped, stupidly, that gone were the days where some dude decided that the main hallway of the mailroom was a perfect spot to stop to read the reminder he had gotten about the blood drive, or girls decided that a cellphone meant walking in straight lines no longer applied to them.

I was wrong.

I now have to deal with girls who cross areas of our parking garage without looking, and then stare me down as I leave like I am doing something inappropriate by attempting to drive 5 MPH over the speedbump and exit the garage.  My personal favorite is a girl who likes to walk in the middle of the lanes in a parking garage, which makes me look like a predator because I have to follow her path back to her car because she's blocking the exit.  No, I'm not stalking you because you're pretty and look like you stepped out of the pages of a Vineyard Vines ad: there is only one way to get out of this concrete monstrosity and you, your polo, and your Blackberry are blocking it.

I have to deal with three girls who walk in the main entrance of our law building and stop two feet in the door to look at each other and state, "I love your pink computer!"  Me too, princess, me too, but you'd still love it if you took 3 steps forward.  You don't even have to ask "Mother, may I?"  Just do it.  And for the record, Elle Woods did the pink Mac way better than you ever will.  If you don't move I will trip you and you will land on the tile floor and your Pretty Pretty Princess computer will crash into pieces and you will weep and I will give you the coldest stare you have ever seen enabling me to skate to class on your frozen TEARS.  MOVE. 

I have to deal with girls who plan their weekends on Tuesday blocking my locker and about 3 dozen others because they are discussing how "the guys so want to party like, like ALL of this week.  I think I could like, you know, join them for some of it, but I don't like, I don't know.  That's a LOT of going out and, you know, we still have like, stuff to do!  And you know how they like to, like, play beer pong and like just be totally wasted and like, I have to DRIVE back to my apartment, you know?  I can't just like, crash on their couch, that's gross.  CACKLECACKLECACKLE."
One, that conversation could just not have happened and absolutely no part of the world would be different.  None.  Two, we are taught about brevity and clarity in our legal writing class and therefore I have to assume you slept through the whole thing.  Three, my civ pro book weighs a lot and your foot is fragile.  Four, I hate you and everything you stand for and I will record this conversation and discover your name and send it to every last one of your potential employers including surrounding restaurants looking for waitresses if you do not MOVE IMMEDIATELY because I've had 5 straight hours of class before this and I am hungry and would gnaw off your arm right now if I were sure I couldn't get kuru and also alcohol poisoning because your behavior can only suggest that you are still drunk from last night partying with your boyzzz because you could not be THIS IGNORANT for ANY OTHER REASON.  (My patience and my hunger have an inverse relationship.)

Spatial awareness: it saves lives.