A few years ago, when I moved to Atlanta, I was great success. On paper. I've found that on paper, a person can appear to be someone that they're not. Or maybe that's a mischaracterization, but the image that can be projected by what exists on paper can shape the viewpoint of reality. But what if what is on the paper doesn't quite correlate to reality? And for the record, even though the bank might have believed it, I could NOT afford 20K for that couch. But I will.
Well, as full time law student, I'm supposed to be taking advantage of more opportunity to meet and connect with my fellow students, as well as avenues in which to get my new legal career ignited. To that end, last week I filled out the application for an externship - basically working at a place in a just less than legal capacity during school hours for credit - in effort to get some degree of legal experience before I wander out into the world.
I did not even get the interview.
But then, I'm at a place where my competing law students can list a summer they spent working as an intern at a firm like Impressive, Prestigious and Clout, LLC, or at least watched the lawyers work at Scrappy, Small and Tenacious. Right now, my resume isn't going to get me many looks, because all my previous experience is non-legal. Standing in front of someone I can demonstrate a fairly decent grasp of the law but currently on paper I am a lightweight. The bulk of my current non school related legal experience comes from conversations with Police officers trying to explain that "No, we did not realize the music was that loud".
So the resume thing is probably not gonna work for me right away.
I'm singing up for a seminar in a week or so to speak with an expert on "career transitioning" which is what I'm doing going back to school so late in life. That, and I'm going to get my resume redone professionally, not just cobble something together from the legal resume samples on the internet. I'd planned on having it done by a pro a few years back, but got derailed keeping house and "replacing stuff", but this revamping is become more imperative with each passing day. My path to the Career Services Office is about to get even more well worn.
And then finally : The bar fitness application.
It is in eight sections, had to be downloaded in parts, and will be as my brother described the most invasive examination of my life I will ever experience. Your average law student is a decade or so younger than I am, and if you're living the optimal experience, almost two decades, so the examination of their lives usually involves the seven or eight years they've living since they reached the age of the majority. A simple kept your nose clean keep it moving sort of thing. My application and subsequent and probably necessary attachments...I'm figuring the package I'm going to give them might qualify as a short novel. They're going to want everything I've ever done legally, financially, possibly morally, and they expect me to remember and report it all. To say I'm certain there are going to be things I will have forgotten is a basic. Which credit cards I had in college due a free T-shirt? Um. I had an account with who? Er. I'm wanted in Bolivia? I'm not even allowed in Bolivia. The rep claims she doesn't expect perfect recall, but I'm almost certain that I'm going to be a special case. I can feel it in my bones.
This is where I see if it's all worth it. Oddly, some of the women in my class (older chicks) are suddenly talking about things you can do WITHOUT passing the bar, making me wonder if there are other folks with bones in their closets. You know what they say - It's always the quiet ones.
Barkeep. They haven't asked about my drinking yet. But just in case, I'll have Sprite, with a splash of rum.
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