A Full Year of Only Mondays · 3:05pm Oct 18th, 2023
Good morning. This is, from my point of view, a comedy blog. From the point of view of my family and loved ones, it's a horror story.
I'm so fucking back, baby. Hi, all. Did you miss me? I know I did.
It is incredibly weird to come back from--oh by the way it is my birthday today! I'm 29 years old what the fuck I'm so goddamn old isn't it crazy --anyway, it's so weird to come back from what is, essentially, a months-long studying blender.
Art by the incredible, outragerously talented Evelili. Imagine my glee when waking up and seeing this staring back at me from the computer screen. Literally cannot be happier!
It's been exactly two weeks since the mental marathon ended, and I'm only now starting to feel like a human again. I had to remember what I like to do during my free time, and spent the first few days aimlessly walking around the house, unsure what my schedule was supposed to look like, now that I wasn't studying till I dropped. What did I use to do to have fun, again?
I have been studying for the exam that will let me become a judge, y'see, and due to a series of extremely funny circumstances I had to give up on life for a while.
That's not an exaggeration either; folks who keep in touch with me know I've disappeared since last June, and I'm only now coming back. It started normal enough -- studying 8 hours a day, which is still harsh, but it's like a full-time job, essentially -- and then over time, as the date of the exam got closer and closer, things devolved.
Quick recap, for those in the back: To become a judge in Spain you need to pass three exams in a row; if you fail any of them, you gotta start from the beginning. I succesfully passed the first two exams, and now I had to study for the last one, which involves reciting five random lessons out of a pool of 142, in one hour, without pauses or without stopping to do anything but breathe or maybe sip some water. Average of four words a second. Rest assured: it is as fucking stupid as it sounds!
In hindsight, I'm surprised at how much resilience I had. Day after day of wake up, have coffee, study, eat, study, go to sleep. Nothing else. Only studying. ONLY studying. My free time was, exclusively, the one hour of coffee right after waking up, and the one hour of downtime before going to sleep. The rest? Hard memorization of legal procedures. I only stopped when I got so tired that I would get nauseous, and even then, often I pushed it till I was THIIIIS close to throwing up.
It was insane. Again, I've kept this schedule, no days off, day after day, since June. Eventually the mental exhaustion was so strong I couldn't sit down to study, I'd fall asleep immediately. I got to pacing around the house to stay alert! I'd grab my notes and walk around, reciting stuff to make sure I had memorized it, and I never, ever stopped, because if I stopped walking, my momentum would be cut in half, and I would not meet my daily quota.
This got weird soon, because my legs started hurting, and I mean really hurting. I have stopped exercising; I used to do it every day to stay in shape, but I simply lost the time (and to be honest, the drive) to keep it up. So I was like, ouch, am I sore now? Am I really that out of shape? This is literally just pacing around the house, how much can it be? There's no way I'm sore just for that.
Ah, hm. Hmm.
So anyway: picture me. I'm mentally exhausted. I only eat sugar and drink coffee to keep going. My legs hurt so much that when I wake up every morning I walk weird, my muscles are all knotted up, but I keep on going. It feels like my brain has been replaced by slugs, I get nauseous when I look at my notes, but I keep going.
Months pass.
I break, sometimes, mind. One day I woke up and realized I just couldn't look at the notes. I was trying to but I got dizzy immediately, and nothing I read was sticking up -- I'd hit my limit.
This was a problem, because I was behind schedule. Do not be mistaken: pushing yourself like this gives diminishing returns; I was consistently doing slightly worse as time went by. I tried to plan around this, but there was only so much I could do with the time I'd been given: the exam date was October 4th and there was so much content to go through that I just couldn't take a week off to recover.
The end result of all this was that, you know, I had planned to do 10 lessons today, but I only got 9. Or, I wanted to do these 5 super hard lessons, but I had to stop at 3. Stuff like that -- the worst was the week that I meant to do 16 lessons a day, and had to reduce it to 9 a day out of sheer necessity. That was horrifying; that's basically cutting my time in half. Insane.
Anyway--even with all this, even with the terrifying knowledge that I was slowing down looming over me, even as I saw the date of the exam dawning closer, some days, as I said, I break. I wake up, and can't look at the notes. Those days I did not study. That I remember, there were three in total. I used the time to do chores, buy groceries, get a haircut... Yknow, maintenance stuff.
The day after maintenance days were the worst ones. Imagine you're in the desert, you've been in the desert for weeks, and after a grueling day you get to drink one (1) sip of water, but that's it. You cannot drink any more. It's right in front of you, nobody's stopping you, but you know you can't. Would you be able to stop yourself? Do you have the discipline?
I do, turns out, so that's something useful to know. The day after maintenance day is the one time you most desperately want to rest. Your brain has rested just enough to remember what it means to not be exhausted, and it screams at you. Please, do not do this. And then you wake up, have your coffee, pump yourself up, and do it anyway.
You get used to it, eventually. You beat your brain into sumbission. I'm convinced this is healthy.
Surprising nobody, I got crankier over time. I never got angry! I never got, like. yell-y or anything like that. But I complained a lot. I got whiny. My father tried to cook instant spaghetti carbonara one day and fucked up the recipe, because he refused to measure the ingredients and added WAY too much water, so what came out was fucking spaghetti soup. With pieces of ham floating. It tasted like cardboard.
Dear God I gave him so much shit for that. I would not shut up about the spaghetti. Look at this disgrace, I said. Look at this. It's murder, is what it is. I have developed a hernia just looking at i--the fucking spaghetti float, dad. Look at this. Look at me. This is carbonara ramen. You made carbonara ramen. The entirety of Italy has a price for your head right now, dad.
(I feel bad about it still.)
(Jesus though those fucking spaghetti. He murdered them.)
Months pass. My lessons accumulate. I start seeing the Matrix whenever I look at them -- there's so much, there's SO MUCH, but I'm studying it all so fast that I am making connections between the lessons. I understand the design behind the legal procedures, the guidelines that sort of dictate how everything works. There's chaff, there's a lot of inelegance (years of reforms and accumulative changes will do that to you) but I can see that I'm Understanding Law. I am becoming a Law Understander. I empathise with the minds of those who wrote them all. I have the Four Main Laws -- Civil Prosecution, Criminal Prosecution, Social Jurisdiction, Administrative Litigation -- downloaded in my phone and tablet, for quicker references.
Every conversation I have seems to center around law. I am so fucking boring. I am so fucking boring, you people. "Oh," my father says, "I talked to Carlos, he said the bakery will be open tomorrow even though it's a local festivity?" "Yes," I say. "According to the Statute of the Workers of 2015, national festivities are mandatory days off, but there's only fifteen of them a year, and autonomous workers may define which local festivities count or do not count. See, the Royal Decree of--" I see my father's eyes go white out of sheer tedium. I try to walk up to him to wake him up, but my legs hurt, so I trip and I fell down.
I keep talking about law anyway. "--ARTICLE THIRTY-FOUR OF THE LABOR STATUTE DEFINES THE WORKDAY AS--" I hit my head against the floor. I fall unconscious. I still don't shut up. "--AND SUBARTICLE THIRTY FOUR POINT EIGHT ADDS THAT WORKERS MAY ASK FOR SCHEDULE REFORMS WHEN--"
Months still keep on passing; time, inevitably, moves forward, despite my best efforts.
The last week before the exam, I go to Madrid -- I live in Barcelona, but the exam is in Madrid -- and spend my days holed up in a hotel room, studying. I only come out to buy food at the grocery store, and then I go back to my room, and eat it while studying. My brother lives in Madrid, but I only see him when he picks me up at the train station, and then one day that he forces me to leave the room to have dinner.
I am feverish. I am deranged. The wifi is spotty so I don't talk to people while in there, and I undergo a process of goblinization. I pace around the room in odd ways, because normal pacing hurts, and I've gotten used to it. I need variety, like a cat in a cage. I walk side by side, backwards, twirl around like Michael Jackson while reciting law. It becomes a dance of sorts as I recite law, lost in the glee and the horrors. My window is closed; there are other guests at the hotel and I grow paranoid about bothering them, about disrupting their sleep with my chants.
With the window closed, though, the room grows hotter and hotter, and my constant exercise makes me sweat. I only shower right before going to sleep; I don't have time to do it during the day. There is an AC unit, and I turn it on often, but I do not like the artificiality of the cold, it feels odd against my skin.
So I take my clothes off. I need to be comfortable when studying, and I feel sweaty and sticky and gross. First I take off my shirt, but soon enough, I take off my pants, too.
One day, my sister manages to call me, and asks how's it going? I reply in a very coarse voice, sore from all the chanting and reciting law: "It's going fine." I'm sitting on the bed, in my underwear, chomping down a supermarket salad as I glance over Procedural Civil Law, Lesson Twelve. "It's fine. I have to hang up." My legs hurt so much. I get up from the bed and go on pacing. I don't finish the salad.
I spent a week studying, dancing, in my underwear. Twirling around. Reciting law. I am aware that I made a joke earlier about falling unconscious and still reciting law, so let me make this clear: this bit isn't a joke. This isn't comedic exaggeration. I really did this. I genuinely was dancing naked in the hotel while reciting law. I do think I had a stress-induced fever, eventually. How could I not?
The next day, someone knocks at the door of the hotel room. I hastily put on some clothes and open up.
"Yes?"
It's a nice woman, one I've seen before. "Cleaning service," she says. "May I enter?"
I give her a sad smile. "I am so sorry," I say. My voice sounds like sandpaper. My throat hurts. I push throught; I've gotten used to pushing through the pain. "I know I haven't let you clean since I came here, but I really can't afford to leave the room yet, I'm too busy working. Do you mind-"
"Coming back tomorrow?" The cleaning lady is so nice. She smiles and nods. "Don't worry. Do you need anything?"
I notice, half-subconsciously, like in a dream, that she's staying as far away from the door as humanly possible. I wonder why. "Actually! I could do with more toilet paper, if it's not too much of a bother...?"
"Of course, of course. I'll be right back."
I close the door, and look around the room. It is actually pretty much spotless; I haven't really done anything but pace around for five days by now. My clothes and utensils are all neatly folded inside my luggage. If it wasn't for the bedsheets being somewhat disturbed, and the thousands of legal documents on the desk, you wouldn't know someone is staying here.
I go back to studying.
Someone knocks at my door again.
"Hi, it's me again." The cleaning lady is, again, standing as far away from my door as humanly possible. She's handing me two toilet paper rolls, holding them like they're radioactive, and she's looking to the side, facing away from me. "Here you go."
"Thank you so much." I grab the rolls. "I'm---"
"Also." She reaches for her bag and gives me a bottle of perfumed soap. "Take this."
I look at it, blinking. "Um. I don't need that, thanks. I brought my own soap--"
"Take it."
"I really don't---"
"Take it."
I take it. The woman smiles, and leaves. I close the door, and look at the bottle of soap.
It suddenly dawns on me that I have been holed up in this room, doors and window closed, twirling around in my underwear, sweating and breathing and pacing, for five days nonstop.
"Oh god," I say. "This place smells like shit, doesn't it."
That day, I study with the window open. My throat doesn't hurt as much now that I'm breathing fresh air.
I still have the bottle of soap with me. It smells really good, actually.
And then the exam came.
I woke up at five am that day, to go over as much as I possibly could before it was time to recite my lessons. There's 142 lessons in total, and I've studied them all multiple times? But it's very very difficult to keep them all in your head at the same time. That's the challenge, especially when you do not have the time to do it at a proper, non-murderous pace.
Eventually, there's only so much I can do. Out of 142 lessons, I have around 120 in my head, give or take. It'll have to come down to a roll of the dice. I simply did not have the time to go over those last 20 in the week before the exam, as hard as I tried, so if they ask me those---I won't be able to answer everything they expect me to say, and so they will automatically fail me. It'll come down to a roll of the dice, when all is said and done.
The dice rolls.
I do not get lucky.
"With the permission of the Court," I say to the microphone. "I announce my withdrawal from the exam."
I walk out. I feel only relief.
It's over.
As you can imagine, the following hours (and days) were full of family phonecalls, and friends' messages.
People were extremely worried, afraid that I might crash and burn, or fall onto some big depression. All that effort, and for nothing, you know? And every time, I was like, no, no. I'm fine. No, really. I gotta hang up, I need to take a nap.
It's been two weeks. I'm still only relieved, to be honest. And I am constantly, constantly napping.
Look, if I had taken it easy? If I had given up on bringing every lesson to the exam from the getgo, taken days off, doing less than the maximum amount of study I could possibly handle? I'd be devastated right now. I'd be down in the dumps.
But I didn't do that. I gave it my all, and there's no fucking human in existence who can tell me I didn't. Even I can't believe the shit I put myself through, in all honesty. I have no clue how I managed to survive it all. I did my best, and it all came down to luck, and luck didn't smile on me that day. So there's nothing to feel guilty about, no regrets. I'm just honestly incredibly glad that's over, and very, very tired.
Judge exams happen every year, ysee? I gotta start the process anew--but like, there's no such thing as wasted effort. All the studying I've done is still, yknow. Studying. Like, I have the lessons in my head. I couldn't manage to get everything in my head in just a couple of months, but now I have an entire year to re-read everything I've already memorized, to make sure it sits in my head.
I'm not a judge yet... but the next time I try, everything will be in my favor, rather than the opposite.
Everything that could go wrong this time, went wrong. If I had rolled a better lesson, I would've made it. That's enough for me, honestly, because I don't see it as, yknow, a failure. I see it as a testament to the fact that oh my GOD I get to REST now. I get to take NAPS. Do you know how much I've missed NAPS.
I can LISTEN TO MUSIC AGAIN.
I CAN DRAW.
AAAAAH.
So, yeah. Not a judge yet, wait one more year, but it'll be an easier year. Fuck it, I'll take that. At least they won't force me to become a cop if i don't get a high enough score this next time, and isn't that just the biggest relief?
Art by the wonderfully gifted Mousse, whom I love dearly. Imagine my unparalelled ecstasy when I realized I had not one, but TWO Diamond Tiara pieces of fanart for my birthday. You wish you were me right now.
When I say I'm back, I mean it -- I'm writing again, drawing again. I've been working on the next comic (at the time of writing, I'm wrapping up Panel 23, out of a planned 120+, so it's not like I'm going to be done super soon or anything, but after a full year of self inflicted torture? I say it's pretty good!) So, yknow, expect more Aragón in the future. Woo hoo. It'll take a bit, but the storm has passed. No matter what happens, I only see sunny days ahead of me.
There's no more torture I need to submit myself to. I've already studied it all; now I can do it at a way, wayyy slower pace, and stay alive while doing so. I mean it: no such thing as wasted effort. Maybe next time I won't get utterly fucked by the dice roll, either -- I already said this last time, but the date in which you take the exam is random every year, and I got the earliest possible date twice in a row. Just one more week might've made all the difference, but, oh, well.
So, here's to me! It's now essentially guaranteed I'll be a judge next year (as long as I don't choke, but I'd be surprised, honestly). Happy birthday, Aragón. Your twenty-ninth year in this world can only be better than your twenty-eighth. Thank fuck for that.
See ya guys soon. I'm so glad I'm back.
"Hey, Ara, didn't you use the comics to fund your studies? How did you pay for your lessons this year if you couldn't work on any comics?" I am so glad you asked that. Here's my ko-fi if you can spare a dollar or two; don't feel forced, I've still got... some savings? But, yeah, money's tight enough the next comic will come super soon whoops.
Anyway I hope the blog isn't boring as hell. As you can guess, I'm beyond rusty when it comes to writing. I have a bunch of ideas for blogs but I struggle to put my thoughts into words; hopefully this is good practice! See ya soon. And go tell Evelili and Mousse that their drawings are incredible.
Hey, if you gave it your all and went to the extremes you did, there should be no doubt in anyone's mind that you did the best under the circumstances. I'm glad you're coming back to life and writing and everything else.
I remember you talking about the spaghetti, it sounded even more disgusting back then than it did now. Also oh my GOD I missed your comics, really glad to hear you're actually capable of making them again!
Welcome back!
I was there for the journey as much as I could be, given that it depended on you having enough time to open Discord. I have no doubt you'll nail it next time. For now, savor your recovery time. God knows you've earned it.
For what it's worth, that's "only" a marathon every two days and even that takes some generous rounding. Still comically grueling. But again, you're a sitcom protagonist so "comically" is how you do everything.
It’s been something, witnessing this journey of yours at a much closer distance than your prior posts. Aragon, bud, I remain in awe of how hard a worker you are, yet always so optimistic and kind. It’s inspiring, it really is.
Like you say, the work will pay off next year, and we’ll all bow to you as a judge (please Donny sentence us
). Until then, it’ll be awesome to have you around a bit until the pressure ramps up again (
). Keep on recovering, creating and living life, man.
You became a real life goblin just to stumble at the end. Damn. Well, at least you get to not be a goblin anymore, and that's worth way more.
rest in peace to that poor spaghetti, born only to die a carbonara ramen u_u
(and, in no particular order, im glad you survived, happy birthday, you’ll kill it next time, and i hope you now have the time to take nicer walks than ones holed up inside!)
Yeah man, we missed your drawing !
Your long legged ponies always brings smiles to faces.
Seriously though, you have some mental stamina.
Dios mío, solo de leer tu blog ya se me retuercen las tripas pensando en todo el calvario por el que debes haber pasado. Yo una vez en la universidad estuve dos meses y medio estudiando 11 horas al día (sin contar clases) y terminé hecho mierda de caballo. Solo un superhombre es capaz de pasar por lo que tú con esa disciplina.
Me alegro mucho de que no te hayas venido abajo por no superar la prueba. No me cabe duda de que en el próximo intento casi con total seguridad aprobarás, y podrás celebrar tus 30 años con tu ascenso a juez, jurado y ejecutor. Como tú has dicho, todo el estudio que has realizado no se ha echado a perder en absoluto, es trabajo adelantado para el próximo intento. Ahora, a recargar baterías con siestas, como buen español, y luego, de vuelta a la batalla, pero a una batalla mucho menos cruel. ¡Adelante hasta el amanecer, Aragón! ¡Ah, y feliz cumpleaños! 🍰
Jesus Christ, Aragon. This IS a horror story. But, I'm glad you didn't die, and I'm sure you got this next year.
Happy fucking birthday, you insane, insane individual. That exam next year won't know what hit it, and neither will the world of Spanish law.
Welcome back bud. Sorry it was a bust but glad you're still keeping your head up.
(And yay for not having to become a cop)
As I told you in the discord server - what you were attempting to achieve is one of the rare feats that can be called “herculean” without ANY exaggeration at all. I’m genuinely not sure how you’re still functioning, let alone thriving. I am so, SO happy you’re back, and you deserve a gap DECADE after that. Rest. Recover. You did well under incredibly shitty conditions, and that should be enough to fill you with pride.
Congratulations on making it through, Aragon.
and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YA GOOBER
What a wild ride! I've been there before brother - tried to switch careers from education to tech and chose a course that started, of all times, March 2020
. Neither hell nor high water nor unfettered bureaucracy can keep you from reaching your goals
5751142
Hercules was no musclehead; most of his Labors were accomplished by applying his great strength in clever ways. The Nemean Lion had to be strangled because its hide was impenetrable but flexible. The stables had a river diverted through them because doing it by hand would be impossible even for him. And so on.
Welcome back~ Glad the worst of the studying is over, and I'm happy that you're here.
Happy birthday, you absolute youngster! (perspective matters) And congratulations on surviving with all the dice rolls against you. You'll nail it next year!
Is it weird that Carbonara Ramen sounds good to me?
Congratulations on a great head start on getting ready for next year's exams.
Also congratulations on surviving this.
you are such a fucking champion dude. i look forward to reading the next chapter of this journey! in the meantime though, it's good to have you back :]
Dude, the fact you even got to the final test when I bet just passing the first two is pure torture says you got this next year.
Also you've showered by now right?
Welcome back - and Happy Birthday!
Happy birthday, and good show on at least not making next year as much of a hell for you
holy shit
This hit like a ton of bricks.
But I really have to hand it to you, I've never seen anyone bounce back from something like this quite so thoroughly. :) I'd have been crushed, but your feelings and your explanation thereof are just so positive, I can't not feel good along with you. :D To the next test!
Oof. You know, making it past the first two exams under those conditions was impressive enough, but it takes some real strength of character to walk away from this looking on the bright side of it, that you're going to get it for sure next time.
Aww yeah, you get to feed your soul again!
Glad the fever dream is over for a while for you.
5751110
Boring? I hope you realize your life became our telenovela at some point.
Mexico is claiming to have alien bodies, on TV? Yeah, cool, cool, whatever, but did Aragon pass his exam?! We must know!
Also, late happy birthday. Only better from now on.
This blog remains the most enthralling thing on the site. I'm proud to have watched you through this, and am so happy you're in a better place while also on the same track you love.
Wow this was heartbreaking, I was actually reading excerpts with my coworkers and that end result hit hard for us too. Happy birthday though! I'm excited to see what you're working on and I'm glad you'll be back around. Even blogs like this were a great read.
5751194
His instructor thought that passing the second test was impossible, or at least unlikely enough that he hadn't actually prepared for the possibility.
That sounds like a hellish self-forging, ,and congratulations on you for succeeding at it.
As you say, luck is huge. You'll have it next time!
When I read this, I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't in a sitcom.
I heard they're going to change all the laws this year.
That you did as well as you did up to that point with things stacked so high against you is testament to your tenacity. Sisyphus weeps in your presence. You would have had the boulder over the hill already.
Stay proud. You've earned it.
You’ve given your all in pursuit of your goal. You’ve been knocked down by chance. But you stand undaunted.
You’re a badass, and you’ll definitely be a judge this time next year.
5751335
You laugh, but there are absolutely going to be some changes! Secession as a crime has been eliminated in Spanish jurisdiction -- we used to have secession and rebellion as two separate crimes, and they've been fused -- and the specifics of sexual assault have been updated to go with the times.
So there'll be some updates alright, but like, nothing major. The worst case of law updates came in 2015, way before I started studying for the exams, when they literally deleted an entire chapter of the Criminal Code and updated every other book. Last I've heard, dozens of people left their studies that year, because it genuinely meant two fifths of everything they'd been studying was now useless. Insane stuff.
Are you already a lawyer? In the US, you have to practice law to have any hope of becoming a judge. And you can't apply to become a judge; I think you have to be elected or appointed. There are judge training programs, but you only enter them after you've been elected or appointed, because the odds of being elected or appointed are tiny.
Maybe some states do it differently, though.
5751440
Nah, completely different system in Spain. I do have a degree in Law, though, as well as Business Management, though that second one is completely useless and it was a waste of time, oh well.
Anyway, here judges are not appointed, it's a merit system. You only need to fulfill a couple requirements:
Every public or administrative job in Spain works like that, but difficulty varies. To be a run of the mill cop you just need to have a highschool diploma and pass what is essentially a highschool exam; judge exams are roughly at the level of a PhD in terms of difficulty, and indeed it takes between 4 to 6 years to get it done. Once you get it, you get the right to enter Judge School, where you spend a year in an internship, and then you're set for life. (You also have enough qualifications to teach Law at universities, if you so wish; most of my teachers were in fact judges).
Funnily enough, if you have the judge title, you can in fact not act on it and work as a lawyer if you so wish to; it's accepted as a lawyer title as well, because, I mean. You've memorized the entire legal code. You can kind of do fucking whatever. If you do that, they reserve your position as a judge and can go back to it whenever the hell you want; as I said, you're set for life, and that position has your name on it.
That was one hell of an odyssey. Glad you made it out, glad you're back, and glad you're still going for your goal...
...most of all, glad you can RELAX AGAIN!
Late to the party, but your experience with this, and your response to the resolution, have been nothing short of inspirational.
You're one of my favourite writers, and and I've drawn so many lessons your style of comedy, pacing, and tension. To see it being used to talk about duch a momentous time in your life, something that would have shattered so many people, and to come out the other side laughing while barely staying awake is just the icing on the cake.
You have the best mindset and attitude about this, one I've tried to cultivate in myself in nowhere near as intense a situation. There's no doubt at all that this will be a good year for you, in terms of your studies, your writing, and anything else you turn your mind to.
Keep being awesome, rest well, and have all the fun!
Extra late to the party.
I'm very glad you survived. Also, the way you write about your insane circumstances remains riveting.
It boggles my mind that either there's an entire class of people like you in Spain who study an entire legal code until their brains turn to stew and then some, or you're doing the equivalent of speedrunning your PhD.
You, sir, are terrifying, and I mean that as the highest praise.
Even more belated, but welcome back and well done! Here's to your future success. Only you can draw existential dread so well with so few lines. Wonderful stuff!