The Diary of Jennifer Pohlman: Week 1

Well, my bar review course starts tomorrow and my two weeks “off” have felt pretty on.  I planned to be lying around and swilling cocktails from my robe like a younger, female Hugh Hefner, but I feel like I’ve hardly had time to take a well-deserved nap. For the very few of you who are curious (hello, Grandma), here’s a short rundown of what my summer vacation has looked like:

Graduation came and went, and to be honest, was very bittersweet. If you’d asked me at the conclusion of my 1L year if I’d miss law school, the answer would have been a firm “no.” But at the end of three years, it felt sad to end my career as a student. I’m 24 and done with law school. Saying that aloud still feels unreal.

My boyfriend and I packed up my life in Lincoln, Neb., jammed it in our respective vehicles and made the drive north to my parents’ home in Sioux Falls, S.D., where I’ve moved into the guest bedroom. (A word to the wise: Moving is not a couples activity. Enlist the help of people you don’t actually like).

As my loyal readers know, I’ve moved into a room the size of a walk-in closet, and am the new roommate of my parents, my two sisters, ages 12 and 20 and the two family dogs. It’s a full house—but is not nearly as entertaining as the television show with John Stamos. My favorite moment so far has been when my 20-year-old sister held all of my shoes hostage in a garbage bag after I borrowed her sandals without asking. Or it might have been when I got assigned to grocery shopping duty for the whole family, and was lectured for buying the wrong kind of hamburger buns. There’s an age when you shouldn’t be living with your parents anymore, and I’m about seven years past it.

I’ve also attended a wedding, a graduation party, a dance recital, several family dinners and events, a horrible round of golf, caught up with old friends and even weaseled in a job interview—and I’m exhausted. If you need me, I’ll be sipping champagne in my robe for the rest of the day.