Now that we are into our third month of school it seems many of us have fallen into major ruts, though some more optimistically call it a routine. While the first month of school was about the novelty and the second was about learning to deal with the mountain of work, in this current month of school we all seem to have turned into zombies just going through the motions.

On the bright side, the routine has led to a reduction in complaints. For a while it was as if some students were surprised that law school was a lot of work and felt compelled to share their displeasure at every opportunity. Lately, though, many of the complainers seem to be running out of steam. They've gone from defiance to resignation.

On the darker side, I keep hoping the gunners are about to run out of bullets. I am not paying $30,000 a year to hear two or three classmates give 10-minute monologues in each class on their own personal beliefs. That's my major gripe.

How do you like Chicago?

It's a question I've been asked often lately and unfortunately haven't been able to answer well.

After I completed the major research memo -- our first big legal writing assignment -- I took a day off from schoolwork to respond to some long overdue e-mails and phone calls from friends and family. And the one question that kept coming up was: "How do you like Chicago?"

At first I just gave the pat answer, saying how I like the Midwest far better than I imagined I would, how I appreciate that it is affordable and how Chicago has all the amenities of a major city.

But when the follow up questions came, asking what I liked most, I realized that I have yet to experience Chicago. It seems all I do is travel a three-mile stretch of Lake Shore Drive between home and school.

A local Chicagoan was recently telling me a story about something or other and was trying to describe to me where it took place. I realized that anything more than half a mile north of my apartment, half a mile south of school or a quarter mile west of either is completely foreign to me.

~ Then this weekend I was talking to one of my favorite classmates. We decided to try not to talk about anything related to law school. We failed miserably. The whole law school thing has consumed our lives.

Such is the life of a law student, I've been told. But I refuse to accept it. Upon realizing all of this I decided change was in order.

I made plans with a classmate to go on a mission to the South Side to find the city's best soul food. (I finally crossed Chicago-style pizza off my to-do list, after nearly three months of living here!) Chicago is supposed to be one of America's great cities and for all I've seen, I could be in Cleveland, which may be a great city but I've never seen it either. I'm probably better equipped to tell you where to find Corbin on Contracts (it's on the north side of the library, second floor, call number KF 801 .C65) than a good souvlaki.

So while the rest of the class is gearing up for finals, I am gearing up for adventure. I already have part of it planned out: Second City on Friday, soul food Saturday, my first in-person Big Ten football game next weekend and then a hunt for Thai food.

Finals on the horizon

Now the work is about to begin in earnest, with finals looming just more than three weeks away. My classmates seem to now fall into one of two groups. Members of one group seem about ready to lose their minds at any minute and the other realizes that this law school stuff isn't so bad after all.

The former group thinks the best way to handle the pressure is to keep gripping tighter onto that which they know: study hard and study more. They each read every bit of assigned reading three times and have two or three commercial outlines, complete with their own special color-coded tabs.

The other group realized from taking practice midterms that there may be a way to increase efficiency and that this whole thing just might be much simpler than it first appears.

I hope that my strategy -- to release the pressure by exploring the city -- works, though I realize it may backfire, resulting in a bevy of B-minuses. But if my plan does fail at least I'll have my sanity. Even if poor grades prevent me from finding a job, I'll be able to tell you where to go for some good curry.

Trevor Hayes is a first-year student at Northwestern University School of Law, a graduate of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, and a former newspaper reporter. After three months of school he is most proud of finding a good Cajun restaurant and is looking for any suggestions about where to find some spicy food in the Midwest.