The Dirt Field

My dropping out of law school Facebook group periodically generates a number of questions or comments on my life/my decision/my status. To save time and to serve as a reference for future inquisitive law students, here is my FAQ section.

1. Why did you drop out of law school?

I didn’t. Which part of “leave of absence” made it sound like I was not going back? Sure, I have no intention of ever going back, but that shouldn’t be at all clear from saying that I took a leave of absence. And besides, are you always so nosy? What if my answer is that I had chronic diarrhea that was severely impacted by the pressure of the Socratic Method? How awkward would that conversation be?

2. Do you plan on going back next fall?

I don’t know. I will not know until classes start and I realize that I am either seated in the front row of a classroom being abused by somebody with the power to humiliate me/ruin my legal career or not.

3. Do you tell interviewers that you left law school?

Oh, yeah. Sometimes I even wear a tight, wet, white tee shirt that says “ABYSMAL FAILURE” on it, just to clear up any doubts.

Kidding.

During the interview process leading up to the job I recently started, I would explain that I took a leave of absence for “personal reasons”, and interviewers generally left that alone. I think most were afraid to ask, just in case my reply was that I’d had severe genital warts or that my mom was eaten by a tiger. Most were just interested in the fact that I was going back (which I’m probably NOT going to do NOT EVER GOD HELP ME) and whether or not that would interfere with my ability to devote my life, my soul, and my first seven children to their company.

4. What are you going to do now that you’ve left law school?

I plan to raise goats. If you’re thinking that I’m kidding, you’re wrong. I currently have a great job at a nice company that pays well, and I hate it. Traffic on 495 was so terrible last night that I cried, screamed detailed and graphic death threats at other drivers, and grabbed a pan that was making an irritating rattling sound on the floor of the car and threw it at the window. That’s not the person I want to be when I grow up; if I wanted to be that angry/desperately in need of a cranberry and vodka (hold the cranberry), I’d have stayed in law school. So for now, I plan to work, pay off my debts, and then move to Utah to raise goats.

5. This group is great! It’s so great to find other people who have these same thoughts as me!

I can see why this would be comforting, but don’t you sort of wonder why, if everybody is so damn miserable, people are still doing this? If I told you that you could work your ass off for four years to be rewarded by acceptance into Dante’s new Tenth Circle of Hell, which consisted of three/four miserable, stressful, painful years of torture followed by a lifetime of being overworked and morally compromised, you’d tell me to do unkind things to my private places. But how is that really different from pursuing law school, except for the fact that in Hell, you know you’re doomed, whereas in law school, you spend all of your time wondering, thinking, being certain that THIS TIME, SURELY I’M FUCKED.

6. I envy you. Sometimes I wish I could just pick up and leave.

And you can. There is no quota for the number of quitters permitted. But is it the right choice for you? My blog is called The Dirt Field because somebody once pointed out that the grass isn’t always greener on the other side; sometimes you get there and it’s just a dirt field. And that’s really true – even now, I miss being a law student, miss knowing that I’m chipping away at the time until I’ve graduated, miss being friends with people who are paddling frantically in the same sinking ship. But I also don’t spend a few hours a day in class with waterfalls of nervous sweat pouring off of my palms every time the professor consults the seating chart, and I also don’t feel like I’m constantly stupid, slow, unprepared, and overburdened. And I’ve regained the ability to see people enjoying sunlight without screaming four letter words at them. It’s your call.