Tales from the Crypt

It took me just under a year to find a career. But it finally happened. I am a brand-spanking new associate at a small downtown Minneapolis firm. I even get an office with a window. (Now I just have to resist the temptation of exposing myself to the outside world.)

I am so glad to be done with the endless batches of cover letters, resume fluffing, and tedious bullshit laced interviews. I mean, how many different ways can you say “I’m great” without sounding either a) desperate or b) pompous? I’m also excited that I will not have to open any more, “We’ve been surprised by the number of quality candidates… yada, yada, yada… it was a very difficult decision… yada, yada, yada… we’ll keep your resume on file for any future openings” rejection letters. (Translation: You suck, we’re going to interview people waaay smarter than you, and we hope your resume enjoys its trip through the shredder.)

I’m certainly relieved to have found a job in the attorney saturated Twin Cities market. I can’t even begin to imagine what it will be like for each successive class of legal grunts. It seems like every year it gets just a little bit harder to land a decent gig.

The longer an attorney practices, the more valuable they are. And for some reason most attorneys cannot get comfortable with the idea of retirement. They just keep coming in to the office, cranking out billable hours and spending their twilight-years elbow deep in legal work.

But I can finally let all that worry and rationalization go. I’ve arrived, I’m validated, I’m a lawyer. Now all I have to do is not screw-up.