The Lies I Learned in Law School...and other unhappy endings.

 Oh nooo not another post about the mistakes associated with being a lawyer - is that what you're thinking? I bet it is. I'd be thinking it too.  Well I promise to curb future posts about the legal profession, mostly because I'm saving it up for the scathing tell-all I'll write someday, but I had some unfinished business to attend to after http://redorwhiteandlifesotherdilemmas.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-sit-there-and-look-pretty-case.html and I somehow waited this long to spew it all over you. Mostly because I forgot to hit publish back in September.  It's just been sitting in the wings, waiting patiently for its debut. (So, on that note, this was written months ago for those who may or may not be aware of current contemplations). I'm going to write a book, call it the "Lies I Learned in Law School "and set up lemonade type stands outside Kaplan LSAT review courses to sell it. I might even sell crystal light, circa the good ol' lemonade stand days, for good measure and you know, as sort of a consolation prize.   What's that?  You sold real homemade lemonade - well la di da, good for you.  As a follow-up to http://redorwhiteandlifesotherdilemmas.blogspot.com/2011/09/just-sit-there-and-look-pretty-case.html and a continued public service announcement against attending law school, I would consider myself a failure if I didn't warn you about the rest of the doom and dread associated with following your life's "dream." 

It isn’t just that I wasted my good years sitting in lecture halls and libraries as I pushed my way through law school. Although I did waste my good years sitting in lecture halls and libraries as I pushed my way through law school. It’s that once you graduate with that diploma you worked oh-so-hard to achieve, you now have to do something remarkable with it. And the harder you worked, the better you did, the harder you will have to continue working, because the better you can do. In America, remarkable and better generally means prestigious. Prestigious (with some obvious noble exceptions) generally means money. And money means working your life away, at least for a few years, while you strive to achieve whatever is next. Of course, at that point you can’t even remember what you sought out to achieve in the first place. And, it’s not just the prestige and related cultural exceptions - as if that wouldn’t be enough outside pressure - it’s the cost of that higher education in the first place. The oh-so-hilarious thing about being a lawyer is there are some who make the big bucks, so to speak - the ones who follow the route (the perfectly landscaped yellow brick road) we're all told we're supposed to want to follow and make the salaries that make other people's heads spin. And then there is the vast majority who make less (or at most the same amount) as those who never attended law school in the first place. But regardless of your destination after school, you HAVE to pay an institution hundreds of thousands of dollars to get an education that will allow you to make a salary that won't allow you to pay back the cost of said education in the first place. Yes, that seems reasonable. And so, alas, many people who swore they'd never walk the golden hallways of a corporate law firm, find themselves working for the "man" out of necessity. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. 

Many make ambitious promises to pay off their loans in 5 years and then swear they will do what they want to do. But, 5 years come and go and there is barely a dent in those loans. It’s all fine and good to walk into your first law school course with some intention to “do good”, to help people, to make a difference, or to simply do something you care about (tell me more about these things). However, as my father so astutely observed (after I was three years out of law school and my decisions, despite my best efforts, could not be reversed – honestly, how have we not invented a time machine yet?) while not always the case, it sure seems that people who like their jobs don’t make money and people who make money don’t like their jobs. And here I’d been so caught up in just accepting that women can’t really, truly have it all (in terms of career and family – that’s another post), now I’m discovering no one can have it all (in terms of happiness and money). Seems like we all got a pretty raw deal here. Suicidal yet? And, the problem is (one of the problems is) saying we don’t need to make a lot of money or being content with what we have is only half the battle, when a graduate degree leaves you so far in a hole you can barely scrape your way back to the surface. It's a decision that will continue to follow you around, one you can't even escape by filing bankruptcy (true story). And say you've simply had enough and are willing to make less to "be happy", there is the notion of taking a pay cut and then there is being irresponsible. Most pay cuts in this field average close to six figures. Ahh, now you see why this isn't such an easy decision. My monthly loan payments cost more than most people’s monthly rent payment (regardless of neighborhood), and then, of course, I still have to pay rent – a sum which in NYC is barely affordable as is. And even if you manage to pay those momentus sums back, and get to a break even point (don't even raise your hand and ask me about savings), you're faced with the concept of living paycheck to paycheck - after working so hard to get to a point where you wouldn't have to do just that. 

In discussing the phenomenon of money and happiness, there are plenty of people who will tell you that money can’t buy happiness. Well, of course it can’t. That’s an absurd statement. Please don’t insult me by ever saying that to me again. Ever. (Not that I haven't searched it on Ebay - a search that resulted in a ridiculous number of self-help books. Seriously, the number of self-help books on 'how to be happy' make sme think I could just write a whole lot of nonsense, slap the phrase 'get happy' on the front, get that shit published and have a pretty simple solution to this whole blog post actually.) But it can buy a lot of other things, which let’s face it - is a pretty big deal. Sometimes when I’m feeling dramatic I remind people that I’d rather be unhappy and rich (not that I’m rich, that was for effect), than unhappy and poor. Because, taking a pay cut and making less money does not automatically mean someone will be happy and it is no secret that lack of money causes a lot of stress and unhappiness. After a bad day, a trip to a wine bar with a friend makes me happy and that costs money. The prospect of vacations is expensive but results in happiness. Online shopping when I’m stuck at the office makes me very happy. And, the list goes on. 

A lot of my friends (in attempting to be helpful) who do love (or at least like, or you know what - lets start small – who don’t cry on a daily basis or fight back nausea while actually sitting at their desks) think it is well worth it to make less money and encourage their friends to make a similar move. However, in most of these cases, the friends who make these heartfelt proclamations don’t have the same money issues. While I understand they are trying to help, it is somewhat frustrating when you are a speaking to a dual-income individual while trying to survive on your sad, single salary or to someone who is debt-free while you’re juggling 6 or more student loans. If you have a boyfriend, fiancé, or husband who makes good money (or just makes any money - the idea of having two incomes and splitting bills makes me salivate), your salary becomes less important, or if your parents paid for your graduate degree or set up a trust fund (its amazing how many people I know now with such a privileged upbringing), we are just not on the same playing field. While I certainly don’t begrudge you for somehow managing to have it all (contrary to my earlier conclusion that such a thing was impossible), I’m paying all my bills, plus my loans and feel as though I am barely getting by and the idea of leaping into something new with a much lower salary at this age seems fairly stupid (and even if I don't think it seems that stupid, there are plenty of people who have assured me it is). And, while I will continue to yell at my parents for not setting up a trust fund and encouraging me to be an overachiever (reasonable conversations that they fortunately don’t bother to entertain) the fact is that they didn’t and I was and so here we are, trapped in high-rise prisons we put ourselves in.

There was a time (not that long ago, although it feels like a different lifetime) when I had life goals and aspirations that went beyond a salary, but that was before factoring in the cost of my stupid education (as alluded to above) and now those dreams just seem like dim memories. Plus, money is a demanding mistress. It is one of those things that you might not need that much of before you're introduced to her seductive ways, but once you have it, you can't imagine how you would live without it. The so-called golden handcuffs. And I'm not discussing the concept of giving up a lavish life of luxury, but we do have certain comforts, certain expectations, certain securities and things we take for granted and try as I may to crunch my budget, I cannot fathom how people can possibly survive on so far less than my salary.  Money can be paralyzing. And those of us who grew up as part of the infamous middle class seem to have more of a struggle with our salaries in some ways (than those who grew up "privileged."). We're both blessed and cursed by our relationship with the dollar. In one way, not growing up with this kind of money makes it harder to achieve it and then walk away from it, because it is something we never took, will never take, for granted, but it also means we know that we don't need these salaries to survive, to be happy. Split personalities are fun. 

But, its not just the money. It's really not. I'd love to chalk it up to just being that shallow and materialistic and suggest I need designer clothes (I'm relatively clueless about fashion) or cleaning my apartment myself would kill me (yes, you're inferring correctly, most of my friends have a cleaning lady and I too used to take this luxury for granted before I gave up the doorman for a 3rd floor walk-up in anticipation of my fall from grace) but thats not it. Liking nice things and getting used to a way of life is certainly part of it, but it is a part that I really wouldn't have all that much trouble giving up. The bigger issue is that I worked so, so hard to get where I am and then decided I didn't want to be here. So, now what? The idea of walking away from something you spent so much of your life and energy striving for is not an easy pill to swallow. Plus, since I've been wrong about so many things, I don't trust my own opinions. I am paralyzed by the fear that I will simply hate anything I do and then I'll have walked away from a paycheck only to learn it wasn't you law firm, it was me. Gretchen Rubin (in "The Happiness Project") also quotes novelist Lisa Grunwald who said ‘best is good, but better is best”, the idea of taking a voluntary pay cut goes against our very notions of success, of what we’re told should result in happiness. Indeed, it will lead to views of failure even if you leave to pursue something you care about, you're excited about, even if you leave for a respectable job, for one that may ultimately make you happy. The fact is once you’ve crossed the line (by wasting your good years, recall) and joined us on the dark side, it is hard to go back. If for no other reason (and piggybacking on the sentiment of my earlier post - at least now if we find ourselves alone we (and our friends and family) can point to this career, the hours, the job, as being to blame (it makes your friends and family a lot more comfortable when they can point to something like that), and, more importantly, at least now we have the means to support ourselves, there is somewhat of a comfort (except for the 212 days of the year where you are terrified of being laid off and the weekly waves of nausea that accompany a potential mistake) that you will be able to continue to pay the bills. And, of course, the recurring vision of me in my 40's discussing my previous life as a shmancy attorney at a haughty taughty manhattan law firm while now cleaning bathrooms or filing papers in an office building or walking a dog (for the record I have stolen those future career choices from other current attorneys, to illustrate my point) just seems crazy. To peak in salary and conventional notions of success by age 30 is downright depressing. I'd argue it is not better to have had and lost than to never have had at all. (I understand the actual expression is "it is better to have loved and lost"...but there was never love here to lose). 

And, once you've been working within these walls for a few years you lose sight of any reasonable ambition. While 2 years ago I may have been able to articulate alternative options to pursue, at this point I'm so beaten down, so burned out, so abused, that I've skipped right over that step, and well probably right over the next 4 steps as well. So, now I find myself walking by a starbucks with a help wanted sign and walking in (I'd make a damn good barista), or passing a McDonalds and being envious of the employees. I daydream about absurd alternatives. Recently I strongly considered moving to Peru and raising alpacas (check my internet searches if you want proof). I've figured out how little you can live on in the Far East and in South America and have started packing my bags. I've asked friends with new children if they're looking for a nanny. Not only do none of these things require a JD, they don't require a college degree, or really even a high school diploma. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. 

Plus, the sadder reality is that in this post-recession wasteland, even if you are fully willing to work for hugs - and quite honestly, I could use a job that pays me in hugs after the last few years of mistreatment and abuse - those jobs are hard to find and harder still to land. Of all the things in the world that don't make sense, there is a "problem" of being overqualified that is truly quite maddening. So it turns out you are overqualified for some things and yet not even close to qualified for most others, and so this feeling of being trapped starts to break you down into a position of submissive, subordinate slave as you try to sell your JD on Ebay. (I've seen craigslist ads, I did not make this up).

I hear virtual strangers discussing their plans for law school and I yell "Don't do it!" I don't even have to be part of the conversation to chime in with this unsolicited advice. I leap over subway turnstiles to knock applications out of some poor, unassuming fool's hands. (Of course I don't actually do that, mostly because people apply online, but I also recognize such an act would be illegal.  Though in that case, what's the worst that could happen? I'd get disbarred?...and then I couldn't be a lawyer anymore? Shame.) I consider it my duty, perhaps my new life calling, to inform people of the error of their ways, the way I wish people had warned me (I'm certain people warned me, attorneys are a stubborn breed). It is fairly common knowledge that attorneys abuse drugs and alcohol more than almost any other profession (although pilots notably are pretty high on the list too, so keep that in mind next time you're gearing up for a long flight) and depression runs rampant in the profession, and yet every year more and more people take the LSATs, every year more and more people go to law school, every year more and more people join our ranks and only then do they realize (first that there are no jobs to be had and then) this wasn't what they signed up for. Propaganda at its finest. So this is my attempt at being a good samaritan, to save you from making a potentially devastating decision, I'm selfless like that. And, I require nothing in return....unless, of course, you'd like to send me a tip which I can apply to my mountain of law school loans. You know, pay it forward, folks.