29 September 2009

Panic.

I am trying, really trying, not to lose it here. The more blogs I obsessively read in my never-ending quest to waste time and resources, the more incredibly terrified I become of the future. All I see is that the legal market is in terrible shape, there are no jobs to speak of, there is no way to pay back my debt, and I can look forward to a lifetime of disappointment and food stamps (can you buy organic produce with food stamps?)

 

Part of my panic is indubitably related to my most recent (and final) Big Law rejection. Instead of doing things the humane way (writing a letter) this particular firm decided to torture me over the phone. That's right legal eagles, Big Law called me (excitement, elation, possible urination of happiness) to tell me that I was NOT getting an offer (confusion, frustration, unsuccessful attempt to control the volume and character of my voice). Anyone who has gone through on campus recruiting knows that if you get a call, you got the job. If you didn't get the job, you'll get a letter. Or in my case several hundred letters. This is the industry standard.

 

So imagine me answering the phone, realizing that it's Big Law, smiling and taking out a pen and paper to write down the details only to be told the following:

 

Hey, Soon-to-be-disappointed Loser, How are you doing?!?

 

What I Said: Oh hi, Big Law. I'm doing well, thank you.

What I Thought: A call! I have a job! All that hard work and blackmailing paid off!

 

I realize that you are probably not accustomed to this, but I am actually not calling with good news.

 

What I Said: Silence. 

What I Thought: What? What is he talking about? I realize he's expecting a response. Silence.

 

Unfortunately we are not going to be offering you a summer associate position.

 

What I Said: Okay.

What I Thought: Confusion. Anger. Silence. The emotional rollercoaster, once at such a high, begins to speed rapidly downhill.  At what point is uncontrollable rage/hysterical sobbing considered inappropriate in a professional setting?

 

Please realize this has nothing to do with you.

 

What I Said: Sure.

What I Thought: Oh really? That's strange because I could have sworn I sent you my resume, transcripts, blood type, and a Candygram. I could have sworn I told you all about myself and my goals during my on campus interview. I also thought I met with 12 other people at your firm. I could have sworn I spent hours interviewing and smiling and being my generally charming self at your fancy, over air-conditioned, downtown office. But thank you, I'm so glad that I had no part in your decision.

 

We just have such a limited number of spots to fill.

 

What I Said: Right.

What I Thought: We are cheap, soulless assholes who love to waste your time and energy. Let me guess, you're going to go in to the typical tirade about the economy and the restraints its placed on your summer program.

 

Typical tirade about the economy and the restraints its placed on your program…I just felt like I owed it to everyone to call.

 

What I Said: Sure.

What I Thought: Oh right, you thought you owed it to everyone to show them what it feels like when you're coming down from a coke high. Thanks, but that's not necessary. I am terrified of drugs.

 

Listen, if there is anything I can do for you in the future, please let me know.

 

What I Said: Okay.

What I Thought: Here's an idea. You could give me a job, fucktard.

 

And again, I am really sorry.

 

What I Said: Sure. Thanks.

What I Thought: I'm sorry, are you looking for some sort of FORGIVENESS here? WHY did you call me? SEND ME A LETTER telling me how qualified I am and how my hair has an extra-healthy sheen but DO NOT call me when the legal standard is: Call = Job! No call = No job!  And if you don't mind, I'd like the 13 Thank-You letters I sent to your firm back. And you can send that Express.

 

 

Listen. I know I can't have every job (believe me I know), and I know that I sound like a spoiled brat (I am) and I know that most people probably think this guy was just being nice (whereas I believe his struggling firm just didn't want to waste 43 cents on a stamp) but I put myself on the emotional roller coaster ALL BY MYSELF all day long. I do not need any assistance.

 

I am smart. And (at least to myself) funny. And sometimes I'm even nice to people. And I know that I have a lot of opportunities and all that crap. But all I hear is how bad things are out there, and it is really scary. Especially when I am staring down the barrel at thousands of dollars of loan debt. By the time I graduate, my passport will be expired. If I don't have a job, how will I renew it? If I don't renew it, how will I escape the country and blow off all that debt.

 

It's a conundrum. 

These are the kinds of hypotheticals I run through all day.

What's a gal to do?

 

1 comments:

RC said...

I hate it when people won't let me complain, the way I see it, just because everyone on board is going down with the sinking ship - doesn't mean I have to be happy with it!

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