Rejection...beans...the bar.

I have accepted a job. It's not THE job, but it's A job. It'll probably be the best thing for me, anyway... I guess. And it means eventually, my parents can stop paying for everything. I'm sure happy that's coming soon.

I guess this is the best thing that could have happened. I didn't have to make a hard decision, it was made for me. So it must be the best thing. Either that, or it seals my fate as looking around at Miami, saying, "Why the hell am I still here," and fleeing back to D.C.

Who knows.

I start work on August 22nd. That's a scary thought. It's good, though, because it means I'll get to work for like a month and a half until I find out I have to quit because I failed the bar.

That big firm rejected me. I'm not surprised. I don't know what I was thinking when I let them schedule me for a callback in July. I can't speak English any more, so I don't know WHAT I was thinking when they asked if I could come in and I said yes. Regardless, I'm also fairly certain I figured out which partner had sealed the deal for me...he was an asshole. He gave me shit because I couldn't remember my pretrial teacher's name for Lit Skills, a class I took over a year ago... eh. I didn't write them thank-you letters. I'm sure as hell not going to now. Whatever. I'm truly not bitter. I don't have it in me to be bitter anymore. I simply don't care. I'll go, I'll work, I'll have no clue what I'm doing, and eventually, I'll get a new job. Hopefully a year from now, I'll be writing this blog from Silver Spring in the condo my parents bought up there. It's not built yet, but when it is... whoo! By the way, I went through Silver Spring in June... it's getting nice there! What the hell?!? It used to be a crack-den! Best case scenario, I'd live in Cleveland Park or Woodley Park or Dupont Circle or I hear U-Street is making a comeback...

God. I'm so tired, and I don't want to study Florida Con Law. Ugh. I don't want to do much of anything. I can't believe I'm going to have close client contact soon after I start working, and I'll probably have to argue motions in court. I'm going to screw so much up, so badly, so quickly. This is going to be a fiasco. That's why I wanted to work in a big firm. Oh, sure, I'd be writing memos and doing document review, and sure I'd never see the light of day, and want to kill myself all the time, but at least I wouldn't have responsibility or client contact. I'd stay in my small office, churning out paper for nameless, faceless clients.

It's really petrifying to think that within a year or two, I may have tried a civil case. I lie and say that I want to do litigation. HA! It's like the last thing I want to do. Maybe I'll grow to love it, but I don't like arguing, or...responsibility, really.

Nope. That's why I'd much rather answer to 80 middle-aged cranky white guys, asking me to research impossible tasks and criticizing all my work. It'd beat down my spirit, but I wouldn't have to answer anyone's questions... a task I am, and forever will be entirely unqualified to do.

On that note, I guess I really have to do some studying. Meh. My brain is full. And even if it's not, this numbing routine has gotten so painful, I really don't care whether I pass this test or not, anymore. I just want it to be overwith.

I look jealously at the managers of McDonald's and Target and Sports Authority. They have their keys, and they have to count the drawer at the end of the night, and remember to lock the doors, and interivew people that can hardly communicate, but their lives must be so easy. No thought involved, make the fries, fire someone, direct someone else to mop up a bathroom. No tests, no stress, no angry clients, and no rules of professional conduct to break...and breaking them is VERY easy. I could do it fifteen times without thinking, or meaning to!

I just want to put on comfortable sneakers, and a polyester short-sleeved shirt, and go into work every day, knowing which buttons to push on the cash register, to whom I should submit the biweekly punch cards, and when to order next week's supply of hamburger patties. After two months, I could just be on automatic pilot the entire time. I could show up dead, and still do those jobs...and win employee of the month every month.

This job will be a very good experience. I will have a good salary and a life. I will get experience, and I will grow. (Not physically.) I'm going to be fine. Rejection just stings a bit, especially after a call-back.