A Moment of Reflection Part 1

So, my iPod just crapped out on me. My computer decided that it did not want to transfer songs to it anymore. I blame my computer, because it is a piece of shit, and not my iPod, which fucking rules. So, I had to restore my iPod, which means erasing everything and loading everything back onto it. However, after I erased, iTunes popped up a question that gave me pause.

It asked me to name my iPod.

My iPod already had a name, and now, I had the privilege of deciding whether or not to rename it. I could have stuck with the old name, its original name (though I never refer to it by this name, it has always been "My iPod," which may be a bit derogatory, but since my iPod cannot think, it is not protected by the 14th amendment), or picked a new, more relevant name. For instance, if you have a baby and name it "Stan," that may be perfectly appropriate at the time, but after a month or two, you may think that a better name would be "spit-up monster that just won't shut-up." I suppose it is a good thing that we get only one chance to name our kids.

But since my iPod was never birthed out of something I had intimate contact with, I feel that a name change is possible. Because the first time I plugged my iPod into my computer, I had to name it, so I came up with the thing that was on my mind at the time.

"Donkey Porn"

O.K., that was not it. I have never willingly looked at donkey porn before in my life. No, I bought my iPod back in the summer of aught four, when I was full of promise, my whole life ahead of me, and my head full of chemicals. At some point that summer, I had made the decision to go to law school, come hell or high water (had I known either would be better . . .). So at that time my life was focused on the future. Certainly, it was not on the present. I was working a blue collar job, a night job, where I had some authority, but no real responsibility. Plus a kick ass salary (hey $14+ an hour to surf the web was pretty good pay, as I "supervised" a bunch of guys). Sadly, that was not good enough for me, and I had my heart set on law school. Though it was about three months before I could start applying, I was focused on getting in.

So after the July 4th week, when I had worked 160 hours in two weeks, I decided to splurge, thanks to all of the overtime I had worked. And that resulted in the iPod I currently own, hell, when you are working $400 does not seem like that much money.

So back to the point, I named my iPod "Law School Bitch." I forgot the comma, it was supposed to be "Law School, Bitch" as in, I am going to go to law school in spite of you iPod. See, despite my 153 on the LSAT, I fully intended to make law school my bitch, and thankfully, my lack of any meaningful life experience combined with my inability to sell a damn thing (i.e. my personal statement) resulted in me only being accepted to a handful of schools, none of which has ever produced a Supreme Court justice (and maybe a handful of federal appellate judges) (what I am getting at is that I had a choice between crap #1, crap #2 and crap #3). This however, did enable me to make law school my bitch. I was looking over my transcript tonight, and I was like damn, what the hell am I doing here (the main reason I did not transfer was because I wanted two years on law review, screw what the firms want, that is something that I wanted).

So enough with the self-congratulatory bullshit (what is this, the Oscars?), the point is, I had to decide whether or not to rename my iPod. When I got the damn thing, law school was the goal, but now, I have no clue what my goal is. I could fail every class I still have to take and end up with a C GPA (remember, law school is front-loaded in the first year, and you get no credit when you fail a class, I think, I should check on that). So I know I can do well here, that is no longer a goal. I will be published in my school's law review journal, so that is no longer a goal. The three things I wanted to accomplish when I went to law school have been done (granted getting a good job is not something that really was a goal, I figured 1+2+3=6 figures, but I am not close to that).

Back when I named my iPod, I saw my future. Now, I am not sure what I see. So I regret going to law school? I do not think so, there was not much going on for me when I made the decision to go to law school. But all of that was put into perspective when my older sister e-mailed me saying, " hey brother, I need your advice on law school. do you think I could go part-time and do a good job?"


My response coming, some point in the future

Overtime? Hell No!

For the first time since my first job (golf caddie, approx. 11 years ago), I have refused to work extra hours at my job (I am NOT working a legal job. If I were, things would be different). Being a caddie sucked, but since then, my eye has been on the prize. Even if it was working an extra hour a week for seven bucks, over the course of a year, it added up to $364. That is some nice bank (course nowadays, it does not cover the bills for a month, but I digress). Working an extra hour here and there was easy for me to rationalize. I was always up for more work. In truth, I do not mind working, after all, at least I am being productive. What else am I going to do with that hour? Watch TV, drink some beer, and rub one out? Sure that is all well and good, but I would rather make some money.

So today, when my boss came and asked me if I could stay late, I refused, without hesitation. Then, my other boss came by and asked me again, and my reply was a terse, "Nah." Thankfully, none of my other six bosses came by to ask, I may have given in, just to get them off my back (I got the damn memo). Granted, refusing to work OT is one of the perks of being hourly, but why did I refuse now, when I never did in the last 10 years? The answer is simple.

Law School.

(Bet you saw that one coming.) I have finally reached a point in my life where I have a modicum of direction, whether or not I want to be a lawyer or not, the needle is still pointed in that direction. Because of this, my future is beginning to take shape. My psychic powers show me forty-five years of 80-90 hour work weeks, partly because I want to succeed, partly because I am perfectionist, and partly because I cannot trust others, and mostly because that is what it takes to make Partner, and once you make Partner, well, that is not the time to start slacking off. Granted, I may not get a job at a prestigious firm, but any lawyer who has clients is on call 24/7. Whether you are a criminal defense attorney showing up on a Saturday for an arraignment, or a divorce attorney being called up because the wife took the dog, or a regular run of the mill attorney being called up at 9 p.m. by a small local business because they have a big order to fill by 8 a.m. the next morning, and their supplier has not yet shipped the boxes (yeah, they call the lawyer last), there really is no freedom from the oppression of the job. Maybe that is why Lady Justice's scales are permanently out of balance.

Is this the life I want? Maybe, probably, and because of this, forget working overtime. In the past, it was really all about the money. Today, it is about the summer of [Lawschoolrules]. The Summer of [Lawschoolrules]!! Fuck if I am going to bust my ass when I have the rest of my life for that shit.

Or maybe it was because Game Five of the Stanley Cup final was tonight. The damn Oilers won in Overtime.