The key and the rhythm to my life

January 3, 1982

When I wrote the above journal entry, I was 26 years old. I'd been an attorney about 7 months. My first three years of practice were in Placerville, California. They were financially rugged years as I was in private practice. I did my first 5 jury trials during those years and was learning the legal trade.

In the 1/3/1982 entry, I document how hard life was then, but, also, how I was doing what I wanted to do, so, it was worth it.

In a 12/24/1987 margin note at the bottom of the page, I wrote "And this page marks the key and the rhythm to my life. I've always been content to have nothing and yet to have everything." That has been true of my life ever since.

On the left side of the page, I included an amazing margin note :

"They just flashed on the radio that by Christmas 2025, there would be metal Christmas trees in bubble homes where dinner flashes on the table at the push of a button. There will be men on Mars and on the Moon. There will be no post men, Christmas cards will flash on a screen. And, I'll be 70 years old."

Well, it's just about Christmas 2025 now ,and at least one part of the above prediction came true, I'm 70!

Following is a partial transcription of my 1/3/1982 entry:

Today was a little bit better. Spent it researching Driving Under the Influence information and watched some TV and was cold. It was snowing here in Placerville earlier tonight.

I've got enough to pay rent, both office and apartment. But, how I'll pay other bills I don't really know. It's scary. So, I'll just take it one day at a time! But, I will be strong. I will survive. I'm doing the best that I can. I am a little concerned that I'm not working hard enough. Too much goofing around. But, I need time to myself. I'll go crazy if I do any more. Maybe I'm not cut out for this. Maybe I am. Just keep going, Lew. You've got a dream. That's about all you got. So, go for it. The winter winds are whipping around outside now. Just like in my life. But in here, it's warm . I got me.

---

I’m 26 and the thought of my neuroplasticity starting to decline now - before I have figured out any job skills, adulting, (or fucking ANYTHING ) - is actually terrifying. 

[like I know we CAN still learn..... but did I really just waste the most ‘flexible period’ in my life on absolute bullshit? It gets even harder from here??? struggling enough as it is...].

@castle-strutter-potter

A brown owl she didn’t know arrived in the morning with a letter in its beak with her name on it. Even if Andromeda hadn’t seen that owl before she knew that it wasn’t a coincidence that the bird was there, it might be from work or the apothecary so she didn’t take any chances.

What she read made her worry, Sirius had left home, she knew that much, but James was the one writing to her, not her cousin. Was Sirius ok? Why was James writing and not Sirius? Merlin, what had happened?

He set a date and a time to meet, to talk about Sirius, maybe it was complicated, it did say Sirius was fine but stubborn, which match her cousin. She decided it was time to stop worrying and just act. Moving out of the house Andromeda set course for the address James had set in the letter.

Nick had signed up to watch the protest because he wanted to be there with everyone else, he wanted to be reminded that not everyone wanted the war to escalate, not everyone was for the segregation of the magical community, and with all the cases that he’d been working lately, it was getting harder to remember this. Other Aurors who’d been assigned were grumbling about it, not viewing it the way that the younger man did. They just saw it as a disturbance, a misuse of their time and resources. Nick could see where they might be more useful elsewhere, but this was important he believed. 

Lately he’d been working with the misuse of muggle artifact department because of all the crazy and dangerous things that people had been using muggle things for- all in the name of bringing more harm to muggles. So he was excited about the protest. 

My submission to the MAKE A GAME BUT DONT LET ANYBODY PLAY IT JAM. Schrödinger's Tamagotchi is a virtual pet that, like Schrödinger's cat, is simultaneously both alive and dead until opened. It is distributed inside a password-protected archive for which no password is given, effectively stopping anybody from even viewing the game. Downloading it is likely pointless. Nonetheless...

December 14, 1981 Monday

Kind of freaky. One year ago tomorrow night, I will have been out of law school for one year. My God, I can’t believe it. Seems like I was at Western for eternity. I’m learning that the rougher times of life seem to pass on in an instant, even though as you pass through them, they seem eternal. It’s as if that time never existed: 1978, 1979 and 1980 and now, 1981, the internship year.

End of entry

My 12/24/1987 margin note to the above entry follows: “seems like but a dream, a pleasant dream, now.

End of margin note entry

Notes 8/3/2025

1978, 79 and 80 were the disco years for the world unless you were in law school. I was hardly aware that disco existed then. Law school was so intense. I’m not suer why I called 1981 an internship. I had passed the California Bar Exam the first try. I was sworn in as an attorney in May 1981 and by that Fall was in private practice in Placerville, California. I was in court with my own cases. There was no boss or supervisor. Some of the other lawyers in town helped me learn the trade. 

Now I say law school was Disneyland compared to the actual practice of law where you have the real lives and interests of clients in your hands.

I attended Western State University Law School in Fullerton, Ca. The campus has since moved to Irvine, California.

In the following actual journal entry, it begins with a discussion of my early law practice life at age 26. Nina was a woman I was dating then who I would marry the next year. Her sister in law was Darleen.

@ms-alectocarrow

Andromeda had been seeing students since she arrived to Hogwarts. Poppy had owled her after they found out about Professor Binns and she knew that the next step on the way was the mandatory counseling session for every student.

She had seen it all, indifference, sadness, intrigue, and all the things in between but to be honest she was a tired mother of a three year old and the last thing she wanted was to go through another fake tear session if the gods wanted it. She took the list she was given and read the name to the waiting room, “Ms Alecto Carrow.”