The caveat

Amber, one of my old coworkers, graduated last year. During Amber’s last week at work she said:

Amber: “I am a happy person. Really. I’m not unhappy, but I am definitely less happy after being in law school.”

I thought it was an odd comment, but I understand it now that I am a 3L.

I remembered Amber’s comment while trying to explain what has happened to me to a college friend. I kept using words such as weary, quieter, subdued, but I could not find a satisfying description of how I am less vibrant than I was in undergrad. I think “less happy but not unhappy” works.

I did a read-through of this blog, which covers most of my college years. The read-through was humbling.

College was fun1 and I was definitely more vibrant in undergrad. What is different about law school, especially 3L year, is that I no longer have an unchecked sense of excitement and optimism.

In college I was not worried about the job market and I did not have to fiercely compete for good grades.  I also did not realize the true costs of prestigious things like good law school grades and high-paying jobs, or what many people sacrifice (work, health, relationships) to achieve those things.

The top-prize has some horrible caveat that suddenly makes it undesirable. It’s like competing for a promotion, just to realize that the super-prestigious high-paying “promotion” entails a four-year assignment next to a North Korea sewage dump.

Now, just like the promotion candidates can opt not to take the position in North Korea, I made a choice not to sacrifice certain things for the sake of prestige. So I am happy, but there is still an element of disappointment and loss based on my unrealistic assumptions that makes me less happy… but probably more realistic and grounded.


In college had a lot of adventures, took some great pictures, had big crushes, ran into too much poop, attended hilarious drag shows, rambled, ate too much junk food, kept an awesome desk (and dorm!), engaged in mischief , suspected that I had ADHD, fretted over law school applications (before deciding), saw Anderson Cooper, tried desperately to be productive, beached it, worried about housing in Minneapolis, finally moved to Minneapolis, ran around the city with housemates, got introduced to torts, wario, … I studied, had Halloween fun, froze, O.D.ed on coffeeand and and…. although I am horrified now about how dangerous some of the situations my friends and I were in… we didn’t realize it at the time.

Dear everyone: I told you so.

Giving advice to future law students is EXACTLY like this:

Best Quote:

“Yeah, law students are an awesome bunch. It’s like a distilled bunch of the biggest assholes you knew in college. Are you aware that you’ll spend three years in an environment that in no way, shape, or form even remotely prepare you for something resembling a law career? Plus you’ll likely develop a coke habit.”

Buhaha! It’s funny because it’s true.

And this happens every fall – law school applicants find this blog, email me for advice, and I try to dissuade them as much as possible without sounding like a maniac.

Then, these applicants IGNORE my advice, go to law school, and come back around the next fall with: “OH MY GOD YOU WERE RIGHT THIS IS THE LOONEY BIN! Crushing debt! Despair!”

I resist the temptation to say, “Told you so. Now suffer!” and I attempt to give some damage control advice.

But I’m frustrated. I did tell you so. You did know better.

I was recently interviewed by a mortgage foreclosure attorney about law school (for this post here!) and during the interview she told me a story about a condominium downtown. The buyers bought pre-construction units. The condo project went bankrupt before the units were completed, and these buyers have to pay mortgages for condos that will never be completed.

For many people, going to law school is like paying a mortgage for a non-existent condo. You have this huge debt, and not much to show for it.

And many law schools are just like these skeezy financially-shaky developers: they oversell the product to the brink of outright lying, and understate the risk.

And like that non-existent condo, your law degree is not going to provide shelter and security.

Now, this isn’t the end of the world because most of us are smart people who can work through financial handicaps. We will take entry-level jobs, live cheaply, and make small monthly payments for a very long time.

But just because the crap-mortgage won’t cripple you is not a reason to take a mortgage on a pre-construction unit, especially after reading about a slew of bankrupt developments.

And just because a law school makes (fraudulent) statements of prestige and employment opportunities is not a reason to sign up for the equivalent of a mortgage. You know better.

Sure, you might end up with a swank unit that you bought for a pre-construction price, just like you might end up with a sweet Biglaw job, but the more likely result is that all you are signing up for a shit-ton of debt for a useless degree or a low-priority lien on a half-finished construction site.

And of course me, in your ear, whispering “I told you so.”

A happy hour pause for the 1Ls

I have leftover pizza, an exceptional Absolut cocktail, and episode 2 of the A-List: New York waiting for me, but I am taking a happy hour pause to speak to the 1Ls because I love you like Joan Rivers loves botox. Y’all still around?

A few friendly reminders:

  1. Breathe.
  2. Start organizing your notes this weekend (outlining) so you don’t have a “oh shit” moment at Thanksgiving when you realize that finals are around the corner. Use the syllabus as a skeletal outline and see if you need to review anything from the beginning of the semester. This is also a good time to hit up classmates for missing notes.
  3. Consider book briefing.
  4. Stop procrastinating your legal writing work. That will bite you in the ass. I promise.
  5. You didn’t become superhuman upon surviving two months of law school. You still need to sleep and eat, and on a related note…
  6. Remember to embrace the burnout.

For example, today I ran around for about 12 hours: studying, fumbling around the tax clinic, dealing with the meltdown of my craptastic school laptop, and attending class (without a laptop ah!)

I have an essay, a research paper, and a presentation to finish. But I am not doing any more work today. I am going to partake in this pizza,  my cocktail, and watch my trashy reality show before I go to bed. Why? Because I am burnt out and anything I do tonight will just have to be redone in the morning. It is  far more efficient for me to relax, sleep 8 hours, get up early, and then do great work.

How many unproductive hours are you wasting in the library after you’ve burnt out?  If you catch yourself reading at a snail’s pace because you spent all day studying then stop. You are burned out and need to rest. Grab a beverage and watch the A-List with me. No one is going to beat you if you finish your homework tomorrow morning.

That’s all grasshoppers! Now to the A-List…