To My Abandoned Hobbies During Bar Prep
We have gathered here today—me, myself, and my empty venti Starbucks cup—to mourn the tragic loss of three of my dearly beloved hobbies: Exercising, Cooking, and Socializing. They passed away quietly during my bar prep, somewhere between the 300th page of my Civil Litigation materials and the fourth espresso shot that I told myself I needed to boost my productivity (breaking news, there was no boosting of the sort). I’ve prepared some words in their memory that I’d like to share. I’ll try to get through this without sobbing into my step-by-step SimpliLaw guide on how to calculate equalization amounts in Family Law.
“Oh, sweet Exercise. I ghosted you harder than a bad Tinder match.”
Exercise,
You were always there for me. Through heartbreak, exam season, and even the pandemic (Zoom workouts were not the move). You never gave up on me. You were ready to spend time with me 24 hours a day, 7 days a week if I needed you. You helped me feel strong, even when life made me feel like a soggy paper towel. You were never needy—just 30 minutes a few times a week, a little sweat, some stretches, and boom! Sanity restored. You always made sure that I never left our hangouts feeling unaccomplished. But during bar prep? Oh, sweet Exercise. I ghosted you harder than a bad Tinder match.
I wish I could just look at you and tell you that I am sorry. I told myself I’d just take a week off to “adjust to the study schedule.” One week turned into two, two weeks turned into three, and BAM! Months passed. I guess walking from my study desk to the fridge reminded me enough of you for me to be satisfied with the situation as it was. Now, I just wish that I could stand before you and tell you that it’s not you—it’s the bar. (And me. But mostly the bar.) I miss you. My triceps miss you. My old physique misses you. I swear, after this exam, I’ll live the life you wanted me to live, and I’ll never forget you on the way.
Cooking,
You brought so much flavour into my life. You taught me patience. You taught me love. You taught me that it’s okay to cry (while chopping onions). You taught me that life doesn’t have to be bland and that I should never be afraid to spice things up. I traded you in for convenience. It was a sodium-laced betrayal, to say the least. How could I do such a thing? What was I thinking? What did I get in return? Let me answer that for you - a bank account in the negatives and some serious heartburn.
I started telling myself that one more Uber Eats order wouldn’t hurt. I’m sorry that I kept giving you unrealistic timelines on when we’d get together again. My affair with Wendy's and Tim Hortons was toxic - I knew from the very beginning that they weren’t good for me, but I just couldn't get enough of them. I miss the days when we would meal-prep rice bowls and roasted veggies together. In their place? chips, $9.00 coffee that tastes like it should be $1.50, and leftover Buldak noodles straight from the paper cup. I miss the joy of stirring a pot while pretending that Chef Ramsey was about to come in and taste whatever we were making. I miss how authentic we were together. When the bar is over, I’ll light a candle, play some R&B music, and make homemade butter chicken and garlic naan in your honour.
“I RSVP’d “coming” to everything and never showed up. I kept my phone on Do Not Disturb 24/7… I fell into a deep bar prep blackhole.”
Socializing,
We had a good thing going, didn’t we? Dinners and a movie. Catch-ups. Meme-sharing. Gossip sessions. Emotionally chaotic voice notes that consisted of me saying “uhhhmm” and “I hate my life right now” 90% of the time. But during bar prep? I turned into Casper the Friendly Ghost (anti-social style). I responded to all the group chats, but only in my head. I RSVP’d “coming” to everything and never showed up. I kept my phone on Do Not Disturb 24/7. Yeah... I fell deep into the bar prep blackhole. I told myself that, to maximize success in my bar prep, I needed total silence. Like monk-level silence. Zero distractions. I wholeheartedly believed that isolation = better studying = passing the bar. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
You know what’s a distraction? Crying over Criminal Law for the 19th time, without anyone to tell you that you will be okay and that life keeps moving, one breath at a time. I thought I was being productive, but really, I was just lonely, stressed, and speaking only to my bar materials and my reflection in the bathroom mirror. I miss laughing with you, venting to you, and having conversations that don’t include the words “fiduciary duty”. I’m sorry that I thought I could do life without you.
I hope you three know that this wasn’t personal. I felt like I had to give bar prep all the time that I had to myself. I felt that it deserved to use my credit card as much as it did (and damn, did it go on a whole shopping spree). I thought it deserved to be in the front row to see my tears of doubt and exhaustion.
Bar prep became my everything. I should have remembered that bar prep was not my life but was a part of my life that I should have navigated better. Bar prep snuck into every part of my life. Studying in bed. Studying on the toilet. Studying while brushing my teeth. I even started dreaming about myself prepping for the bar. I hope you three find it in your hearts to forgive me because I just want to be a lawyer so badly. After I pass my bar exams, I promise to honour you all with squats, souvlaki, and gossip over mimosas.
With love (and deep existential fatigue),
Your bar-prepping, socially deprived, borderline-feral friend