The hours before

After much struggles, we finally made it. Here, right in the heart of Washington DC, preparing and mooting still into the earlier hours of the morning, compromising our sanity and sleep. At this time tomorrow, we will know if it was all worth it.

Two, almost three months of work, the last couple of weeks of which have been going constantly at the facts, law, trying to nit-pick and to refine arguments and rebutals to the most convincing, assertive and coherent way possible. It will be test and tried tomorrow.

I have faith in my team mates, and to be honest, much more than once I felt or had at a time when things were sometimes getting too much. Now I look at them as they plead, confidence in their voices, assertiveness in their posture, and regurgitating facts and legal positions like the highly esteemed legal experts they have suddenly become in the past few weeks. Winning is not necessary everything.

I think I did and tried all I could. Speaking of 'sacrifices' will be thinking too much of myself. But I did try to be there, to respond to comments, to reflect back arguments, to fill in the gaps whenever possible. Perhaps at times I can be difficult to work with, and maybe too picky and wordy when things can be explained in a line or two. But I think they really have a grasp of the law, and I can (hopefully) just sit back and feel somewhat proud.

A few hours more, and we will see.

Better

I feel somewhat better after a few days of intense hard work. And having these mascots with me while I work away in the library sort of boosts my energies.

Less than 5 more days till the big moot day, and I feel somewhat more confident. We finally managed to hash out a coherent argument and counterarguments for both of the States we're going to be arguing on behalf of. Everything needs to flow, every contention needs to be logically, substantiated, and justified. Every word needs to be carefully chosen, used and explained if necessary. There is no room for slipping up on the arguments, no place for flawed rationalisation, no opportunity to contract what you just said. Which is why I'm better of sitting back and watching my team members plead, while I do the preparatory work now.

I came home after almost 14 hours of lectures and work after the lectures. I feel exhausted, yet much better than I did before. I spoke to mum for a while. Two months ago I bought her tickets to go see Swan Lake, in the hope she'd step out of the house and do something that will bring joy and music into her life. She went with a good friend (who happens to be her cousin), and almost immediately the first word mum said was that she thoroughly enjoyed the performance. She said the dancing was wonderful, the music beautiful, as were the decor and the live experience of it all. It was late when she got home, but she felt good. And I could hear the enthousiasm in her voice.

But she told me about her knees, and I become worried. For some time she has been having pains in her joints. Signs of decalcification, normal aging process the doctors said. But she said it hurts when she walks, and she feels weak, as if she may easily fall over. I listened and felt concerned... imagined her walking up and down those 5 flights of stairs every single day. How incovenient it must be, how painful it must be to take each step...

Mum said she's thinking about moving, to somewhere with a lift. She rememebered how dad used to complain about taking the flights of stairs.... and I remembered that he would always rest once in a while to catch his breath, while holding onto the handrail as he slowly ascended the stairs. And now mum realises how inconvenient it really is...
I wish I could help her find a place, help her move, help her pack and that she wouldnt have to worry so much abut all going up and down the stairs everyday...

She also told me about this herbal medicine that a friend of her took her to buy in the mountains. Some kind of fungus that's indigenous to Taiwan. Very expensive, but is supposed to detox the body, and supposedly very effective against cancer. You make a kind of tea with it. It makes you kind of dizzy at first, and tastes bitter, but it's supposed to be very effective. Had dad been able to have this, then it wouldn't have been too late, mum said...