So I did something really stupid last September. I quit my job of four years. At the time, I didn't think quitting was all that stupid. I thought it might have been the best thing that I had ever done. I was working as a law clerk for a local judge, and I hated it. The job was literally sucking the life out of me. I made it through four years of college and three years of law school without having a single migraine that I can remember, yet almost every single day for the four years that I stayed at this job, I developed one. If I was having a good day, the migraine wouldn't kick in until 10 a.m. If I was having a bad day, I would wake up with it. Most nights I went to bed with one as well.
As for what the job was doing to the rest of my body, that wasn't exactly pretty either. My digestive system ended up in such a standstill that I would actually get up early on Saturday mornings just to watch infomercials for the newest colon-cleansing products. That's how I learned that Elvis's colon weighed around 40 pounds or so when he died, which, if you think about it, means that he wasn't really "Fat Elvis" then. He was just "Severely Constipated Elvis." Of course, I wouldn't recommend that you tell this interesting little tidbit to your local postal worker when you ask for the Elvis postage stamps. He's liable to look at you a little funny. Heck, he might even call security.
I actually ordered a few of these products. Surprise, surprise. Like a good majority of the infomercial products out there, they didn't work. They never gave me the "Dear God, what is that, an alien in my toilet?" type of results that they gave the people whose testimonials appeared on the companies' websites. Nope, all they ever gave me was another trip to my local UPS store to return the product and emails that still clog up my spam folder to this day.
When I wasn't returning colon cleansing products, I was returning yet another introductory kit of ProActiv. That's right. The job also made my skin a hot mess. If Saturday mornings were reserved for colon-cleansing infomercials, then Sunday mornings were reserved for acne ones. Every time some new celebrity signed up for the ProActiv gravy train, so did I. I kept thinking that if I just slightly tweaked the way I had been using it--if I used it longer, if I used their brand of moisturizer with it, if I stood on my head when I applied it, whatever--that it would somehow transform my skin into that of a Hollywood starlet. It never did, so back to the UPS store I would go. I think I sometimes spent more time at the UPS store than I did at home, which might explain why one of my dogs has such bad separation anxiety.
Then there was the number that the job did on my hair. It started thinning, so I started thinking about buying stock in Rogaine--well, that and saving all of the hair that was falling out of my head so that I could fashion it into some resemblance of a wig. Thinking about those things, however, was all I could do. Thanks to the life-sucking effects of the job, I didn't have enough energy to pick up the phone and call a stockbroker or to gather all of the hair from the bottom of the tub, so instead I just tried to convince myself that bald was in. It's not, unless your name is Natalie Portman or Demi Moore. Mine's not.
For those of you out there who know what a law clerk is and what he or she does, you're probably asking yourself right about now, how on earth can that job be that stressful? Unlike other attorneys, you don't have to worry about billable hours, conflict letters, what court you're supposed to be in and when, bar complaints, or malpractice suits. All you have to do is write orders and take calls from attorneys all day long. It can't be that bad, can it?
For those of you who have been law clerks, you know the answer to that question. YES! Yes, it can be that bad, especially if the judge you work for has a bad case of black robe fever. Here's a quick legalese translation for anyone who doesn't know what black robe fever is. Picture a doctor with a God-complex. Now give that doctor a robe, a gavel, and the ability to throw people in jail and let him loose unchecked on society. Scary? You bet, especially since there seems to be no cure for this fever other than impeachment or someone else winning the next election.
My boss had the fever in spades. I put up with it for as long as I could because it was a job and because the county kept offering me more money. However, after awhile I learned that what they say about money is true; it really can't buy you happiness. All the raises in the world couldn't change the fact that I was miserable there so one day I had finally had enough. I knew that I couldn't wait until I had another job lined up to leave. I had to get out of that place before there was nothing left of me or my self-esteem to give to another job, so I called Human Resources, made sure that I could get my money out of my 401(k) and thus not starve for the next few months, and then officially called it quits. The next morning, I woke up for the first time in four years migraine-free and convinced that somebody somewhere out there would think that I have potential and hire me.
For those of you who have been law clerks, you know the answer to that question. YES! Yes, it can be that bad, especially if the judge you work for has a bad case of black robe fever. Here's a quick legalese translation for anyone who doesn't know what black robe fever is. Picture a doctor with a God-complex. Now give that doctor a robe, a gavel, and the ability to throw people in jail and let him loose unchecked on society. Scary? You bet, especially since there seems to be no cure for this fever other than impeachment or someone else winning the next election.
My boss had the fever in spades. I put up with it for as long as I could because it was a job and because the county kept offering me more money. However, after awhile I learned that what they say about money is true; it really can't buy you happiness. All the raises in the world couldn't change the fact that I was miserable there so one day I had finally had enough. I knew that I couldn't wait until I had another job lined up to leave. I had to get out of that place before there was nothing left of me or my self-esteem to give to another job, so I called Human Resources, made sure that I could get my money out of my 401(k) and thus not starve for the next few months, and then officially called it quits. The next morning, I woke up for the first time in four years migraine-free and convinced that somebody somewhere out there would think that I have potential and hire me.
Fast-forward nine months later. That still hasn't happened yet. Apparently, that line that the career services people give you in law school about how great clerkships are for your career is a line of bull. I think they're either under some type of contractual obligation to say that to you or they're being collectively blackmailed by one of the many judicial associations out there because let me tell, it's not good for your career, not good at all. Right now, all anyone wants to hire is an attorney with a very specific type of legal experience, one that involves a certain number of years at a law firm, not in some dark, back room of a courthouse. I can't even get a job doing temporary document review, a job my eight-year-old nephew could do if I explained to him what privileged information means. Even they want a specific type of experience I don't have. It's both frustrating and depressing the hell out of me.
On top of that, my retirement money is long gone. Temp agencies are telling me that no one is hiring temps at the moment because of the economy. Only one person has looked at my house in the six or seven weeks that it has been on the market. My credit is going to hell in a hand basket. I'm wondering why I went to college in the first place, let alone law school, and I'm having to learn the value of the Michaelina $.99 meal. In other words, my life seriously sucks at the moment. Seriously. I created this blog, in part, as a type of catharsis. It probably won't get me unstuck from my in-between-jobs status anytime soon, but at least it will allow me to write a little of my frustrations away and maybe even find others who can relate. Thanks for reading.
On top of that, my retirement money is long gone. Temp agencies are telling me that no one is hiring temps at the moment because of the economy. Only one person has looked at my house in the six or seven weeks that it has been on the market. My credit is going to hell in a hand basket. I'm wondering why I went to college in the first place, let alone law school, and I'm having to learn the value of the Michaelina $.99 meal. In other words, my life seriously sucks at the moment. Seriously. I created this blog, in part, as a type of catharsis. It probably won't get me unstuck from my in-between-jobs status anytime soon, but at least it will allow me to write a little of my frustrations away and maybe even find others who can relate. Thanks for reading.
