I knew that I was supposed to be nervous about my first year of law school, but until this spring, I had no idea just how afraid I should be.  I spent my senior year of undergrad working in a restaurant, and every time a well-meaning legal guest would try to prepare me for the horror of The 1L Year, I always shrugged it off with a mix of hubris and pure ignorance.  They would look at me in mute sadness as I smiled and said, "I'm not worried.  I'm sure it won't be that bad."  Often, they would leave me a large tip with the advice to invest in a bottle of tequila and a copy of "The Paper Chase."  As they left the restaurant, they would shake their heads at me.  They knew I would soon learn the error of my carefree ways.

It wasn't until Preview Day that I became aware of my own ignorance.  At first, I was confused why all of the GW personnel were speaking in such soft, mellow tones, as though they were trying to soothe a room full of kindergartners on Red Bull.  After all, there's no reason to be nervous, right?  I got a little nervous when I realized I don't even know what the names of my classes mean, much less what is going to be covered in them.  I am only now realizing that Torts will probably not involve baking delicious cakes for a semester.  Then they opened the floor up for student questions.  I had no idea how many more things I had to worry about.  "Are there grocery stores in DC?"  one incoming student asked.  I suddenly had a very post-apocalyptic vision of myself foraging through trash piles for scraps on my way to class, fighting off 2Ls and homeless people to find enough food to survive first year.  Another student expressed concern about finding an apartment less than an hour commute from campus.  An hour?  Would I be dumpster diving in West Virginia?

After I stopped hyperventilating, I tried to convince myself that I was overreacting.  After all, the upperclassmen didn't look like they were half-starved zombies.  They had clearly found food and shelter, passed their classes, and lived to tell about it.  I managed to keep myself calm until I began reading the discussion forum provided for incoming 1Ls.  Suddenly, the age-old debate between Mac and PC became the stuff of my nightmares.  The more I read, the more I became convinced that owning a Mac would lead to flunking out of school, turning into a pumpkin at midnight, and shooting your eye out.  The fact that I was using a Mac to access this forum in the first place filled me with dread.  The more questions I read, the more things I discovered to stress about.  Everyone just seemed so much more informed than I was about exactly what to worry about.

Fortunately, over the last few weeks, I have met enough members of the class of 2012 to learn that my nervousness is pretty widespread.  I was not the only one who worried about the projected lack of grocery stores, or the computer requirements, or the workload, or any of the other hundreds of things a stressed out Type-A personality can concoct.  General consensus seems to be what I thought in the first place, many moons ago - it can't really be that bad, can it?