Pulling a Geographic

There’s a term that people in AA use called “pulling a geographic,” which describes the process of moving to a new place looking to escape one’s problems. It’s criticized by some because, as the saying goes, “wherever you go, there you are.”

But sometimes, pulling a geographic can be just the ticket.

Take Daniel Bailey, a 2010 law school graduate who knew early on

The Lonely Lawyer

A law school friend of mine (we'll call him "John") called me tonight, in need of some support.  He was feeling bummed out about not having a girlfriend, about his job (as a bankruptcy lawyer), and about his law school debt.

"I can't believe how stupid I was to drop computer engineering for a history major.  And going to law school was such a huge mistake.  But what else was I going to do with my worthless BA?"

"It's ok.  We all did stupid stuff when we were younger.  Just 'cause you dropped engineering back in college doesn't mean you can't go back into that field now."

"Yeah, but I'm afraid if I leave my law job, I may never be able to go back."

"What are you talking about?  Are they going to take away your law license if you try to be happy?"

The Long and Winding Road

Our dog, on a post payoff walk

I haven’t updated on my job situation in a while, so I thought I’d put together a little timeline of events, from when I first got out of law to our recent debt freedom.  It’s kind of fun to look back at how far we've come.

Mid 2009:  Gee, this law thing really sucks.  I should find another job.  Shouldn’t take too long since I have a JD, which is truly a versatile degree (it must be true – they told me that at law school orientation)!  (Good grief, I was so naïve. I wish I could go back in time and punch myself in the head.)

January 2010:  As a backup plan, I applied to a healthcare program at my local community college a few months prior and was accepted.  I had to complete some prerequisites, though, so I began taking a chemistry course at night.  

March 2010:  Shit, no one wants me because of my JD.  I’m too ‘overqualified’ apparently.  Or maybe they think I’m nuts for leaving such a ‘lucrative’ and ‘prestigious’ field?  If they only knew how not lucrative it is.  I don’t make much more than someone with a BBA, but I have twice the student loan debt.  And there isn’t anything prestigious about answering discovery in a slip and fall case, or arguing a sentence for a DUI when the statutory guidelines dictate the outcome.  Maybe it’s time to take up drinking to get through it.  A lot of attorneys do that, don’t they?

Disclosure

"Wait, you've got a doctorate?  I didn't see that on your resume."

I’ve been getting a lot of emails lately from law school graduates who are wondering whether to disclose their JD’s on resumes when looking for non-legal work.  There are many opinions out there on whether the practice of omitting advanced degrees on a resume is ethical.  A lot of people who rode out the worst part of the Great Recession in grad school are now struggling to get past HR screeners, who likely believe that those with advanced degrees will demand higher salaries.  Here are the main arguments I’ve found against omitting advanced degrees, along with my thoughts. 

Forgetting Travis Bickle

I'm in New York this weekend and I've been thinking a lot about fear.  I am staying in Manhattan, but I rented a car since I have an event to attend in New Jersey.  When I told people I planned on driving in the city, a couple of them freaked out.  They seemed afraid that I would get into an accident or not be able to find parking.  Or worse yet, I'd have to park in a garage and pay about $50 a night.  In their eyes, renting a car would render me lost, dead, and/or penniless, in no particular order.

But as it turns out, my drive into Manhattan from New Jersey was fairly uneventful.  I got to drive over the George Washington Bridge, and I only got honked at by one person (a cab driver who thought I should have run over a pedestrian rather than yield).  And I found free parking right in front of my friend's apartment building, where I'm staying.

Today, as I wandered the city, I wondered why I didn't listen to the fearful voices that told me to just take cabs everywhere (which would have cost me a lot more money). 

The Things You Only Read About

Ask Again Later by Davis, Jill A. [Paperback] (Google Affiliate Ad) 

Ask Again Later is Jill Davis' "chick lit" novel about a woman who suddenly quits her job as an attorney and goes to work for her father's law firm as a receptionist.  There are reasons for her drastic actions, which I won't spoil for you here.  The central themes of the book involve the main character's fear of commitment (to her relationship and to a career), and how unfinished business with our parents can sometimes keep us stuck in limbo.  

The book is entertaining in a fluffy, Cosmo's "Fearless Female of the Year" sort of way.  But I did have a little trouble with the main character's inability to take a simple phone message (it's as if the book would like us to think they only teach that in secretary school or something) and with the writing structure, which tends to be a bit pared down, even for chick lit.  But if you're up for reading about an attorney's brush with life on the other side, check it out. 

Inspiration

This is a terrific article by Phyllis Coletta.  She is a former attorney who quit the law in order to become a cowgirl.  It is truly inspiring and funny.  I would read it occasionally when I was still practicing law.  It gave me great comfort to know that people with her kind of courage and humor had been where I was and had successfully gotten out.  Thanks, Phyllis.  

What are some of the roadblocks keeping you from leaving the law?  What would you be doing if you no longer practiced?   

The Trap of Student Loan Debt, Part II: Do You Want to Get Out?

Many unhappy attorneys feel they cannot quit practicing law because of the enormous burden of student loan debt.  If you have been considering leaving the law for another field or to start your own business, paying off your student loans affords more opportunity to take risks (perhaps in the form of a lower-paying but more satisfying position), as well as the feeling of hope that comes from building a future, rather than paying for past mistakes.  

A little over a year ago, I found myself in the position of having left my attorney job for a lower-paying one, but still carrying a large student loan balance of over $100K (between my husband's loans and mine).  Since then, I have gained more control over my finances, and my husband and I have decided to take radical steps in order to pay off both of our student loans once and for all.  Before you begin your own journey out of student loan debt, you first need to ask yourself whether you really want out because getting out involves a great deal of sacrifice.  Let's talk a little bit about some obstacles that might be standing your way.

The Lawyer Lifestyle

When you graduate from law school and land your first attorney gig, one of the first things you will probably do is buy some new clothes.  I know I did.  I believe I spent about $800 in my first month as a new attorney on new suits, shoes, and blouses.  How sharp I must have looked while dying a thousand little deaths every time I logged onto westlaw and looked with dread at the number of cases I would have to read that day. 

Another expense many new attorneys take on is that of a car loan.  If only law schools offered a course like Personal Finance 101.  Perhaps I, along with many other would-be attorneys, would have learned the sheer stupidity of financing a depreciating asset.  Ah well.  I made this mistake, but not until I had practiced for almost three years.  Toward the end of my illustrious career, I financed a big, shiny new car in order to assuage some of my depression.  It worked for a little while, but once the new car smell wore off the leather, I was back to pouring myself glass after glass of alcohol when I arrived home in the evening. 

Some other attorneys from white shoe firms might even go out and join a country club or buy a boat, or some other such nonsense.  All I can say about the many trappings of the lawyer lifestyle is that if you want to leave the law for good, you first need to decide that you are not going to be a miserable workhorse the rest of your life. 

You Don't Understand the Difference Between "Want" and "Need"

Many Americans, lawyers and non-lawyers alike, equate their need for certain  luxury items with their need to breathe oxygen.  To name just a few examples:

• cable TV (guilty)
• smart phones (guilty)
• restaurant lunches
• gym memberships (guilty)
• new cars every three years
• a car for every member of the household over the age of 16
• Starbucks (guilty)
• "stuff" from Target (guilty)
• the latest gadgets for the kids
• vacations at Disneyland
• stainless steel appliances

This list is certainly not exhaustive, but you get the idea. 

If you want to get out of student loan debt so you can leave the law, or just to have some peace of mind, you need to evaluate your lifestyle and start labeling things as "wants" and "needs."  In no time, you will see that most of the things in our lives are really just wants.  One way to start evaluating is to focus on what Dave Ramsey calls "the four walls."  This would be food, shelter, utilities, and transportation.  Anything beyond that is not a need.  (Clothing fits in there, too, but most Americans have an abundance of it.) 

One of the first things my husband and I cut out when we decided to get out of debt is cable.  For the time being, we get by on Internet (which he needs for his job), netflix streaming, and hulu.  We used to pay over a hundred dollars per month on cable and now we pay about $40 (which is mainly Internet). 

Another expense we cut was transportation.  We used to have two cars, but when we moved, we cut back to just one.  This may not work for everyone, especially if you do not have reliable public transportation where you live.  But you certainly do not need two car payments, or even one car payment, in order to get to work and back.  What we did was sell my husband's car, which was almost paid off, and we used the proceeds toward our emergency fund (about five months of living expenses in the bank).  When we sold our house, we used those proceeds toward the emergency fund as well.

As for my car, we have been making extra payments on it for the last five months and I am proud to say we just sent in the last payment a few days ago.  It is actually "our" car now, and it is enough for us. 

You Justify Student Loan Debt Because of the Tax Break

While some borrowers are eligible for a tax break on their student loan payments, please do not justify hanging onto these loans simply for the tax break.  A few considerations:

• There are income limits on who can claim it.  (In 2010, the income limits were $60K for  individuals or $120K for couples before the credit was phased out.)
• You can only deduct a maximum of $2,500 no matter how much interest you paid on your loans.  (My husband and I paid over $5,000 in interest in 2010, so the tax break didn't help all that much.)
• Beginning 2013, you will only be able to deduct student loan interest for the first 60 months (5 years) of repayment.  Many people with advanced degrees are on 20-30 year plans (myself included).
• Student loans are generally not dischargeable in bankruptcy. 

The Bottom Line

If you want to put student loan debt behind you, you need to decide you are not going to keep up with the Joneses, you are going to cut back on luxuries, and you are not going to chase a soon-to-be-obsolete tax deduction.  Ready?  Stay tuned for my next entry on how to start budgeting and make extra cash to put toward those loans. 

   

You Are Not Alone

Whenever I begin to think I'm the only lawyer out there who's happier doing admin work, I am reminded that I am not a beautiful and unique snowflake.  In this edition of Dear Prudence, a woman who once practiced law and now works as a secretary, seeks advice from Prudie on how to respond to the snobby comments she receives from friends who look askance at her.    One thing I love about Prudie is that she is aware of how tough the legal job market is these days and acknowledges that a JD is not something to boast about on a resume.  You tell 'em, Prudie.  Scroll down to the second letter.  Oh, and be sure to read some of the comments below the column, which are often more entertaining than the column itself. 

The Trap of Student Loan Debt, Part I

Many people who would like to quit practicing law have an enormous hurdle to overcome before they can even consider it: all that student loan debt they took out to receive those invaluable JD's (which caused that slew of doors to fly open upon graduation, right?  Or did you miss that?).  

Rather than repeat myself by reminding you that a JD does not make one more marketable, and in fact works against one's marketability, I would like to discuss a more positive topic, that of paying off these soul-sucking debts and getting out of student loan prison forever.

Before I left the law, I assumed that the size of my debt would render me unable to pay off my loans any sooner than the 25-year repayment period I had agreed to just a few months after graduation.  I think the fact that I was practicing law somehow helped me justify a longer repayment period.  After all, if I was actively using my degree on a daily basis, the expense seemed like the cost of doing business.  And since I owed about $80,000, I figured 25 years seemed reasonable.  

Once I left the law, I began thinking more about my financial future and became angry that I had made such stupid financial decisions.  I had basically trapped myself into working full-time in a field I hated for the better part of my adulthood.  Was I going to die a bitter, alcoholic ex-lawyer, still owing thousands to Sallie Mae upon my death?  I couldn't believe my life was becoming an Arthur Miller play.

I should backtrack a little here and fill you in on my professional transitions since my first temporary gig ended.  That gig netted me about $380 per week.  Once that job ended a few short months later, I obtained another job at a call center (my personal low), and then miraculously I was offered a permanent, full-time position at my husband's company working in customer service.  This all happened within one month after leaving my first temp job.  The salary at my customer service position?  $33,000 per year.  Not quite the almost $60k I was making as an attorney, but it would do since it came with benefits and a guaranteed paycheck.  When I accepted that position, however, I did something radical.  I decided not to quit my call center job right away, and instead I cut back to part-time three evenings per week.  So I was working about 55 hours per week, with a combined income (from both jobs) of about $42,000 per year.  Coupled with my husband's income, we would still be doing pretty well, except for our crippling student loan payments. 

My payments totaled about $565 per month, and my husband's were $180.  So basically, we were paying two mortgages, our real mortgage and our student loans.  And the payments were only going to go up because we were both on graduated repayment plans.  Thinking about these numbers is what led me to work two jobs and try to come up with a plan of action.

I didn't have time to think long because about a month after working my two jobs and getting used to my new, hectic schedule, my husband was offered a position with a higher salary about two thousand miles from where we lived.  In a matter of three weeks, we had to put our house on the market, find an apartment in our new city, and pack up.  It was exciting, but scary.  I had no idea what I would do for work, but I was looking forward to the opportunity to start over with a clean slate in a completely different area of the country, where no one would know me as an attorney. 

Fast forward a month after we arrived (which was November of last year).  I am once again an administrative assistant (pretty high level) and I assist professionals on an individual contract basis as needed (a few hours per month).  Everyone I work for knows I used to practice law and no one seems to have a problem with it.  And the real plus side is that I now make 30-40% more than what I used to as an attorney.  This can be attributed in large part to a different job market, but since my husband and I have managed to keep our expenses down, it has made a huge impact on our budget, so much so that I am now hopeful about seeing my student loan balance decrease to zero within the next few years.  

I can't really attribute my new found hope to a simple increase in salary, though.  In reality, I can attribute it to discovering Dave Ramsey's plan for living debt free and building wealth slowly.  It's funny, I disagree with him on so many things - religion, politics - but his books and podcasts have been so inspiring that I don't really care about our differences, as long as I am getting out of debt. 

And I am, more and more each month.  In fact, this month my husband and I are paying off our car (the big shiny one I bought a year and a half ago to try and make me feel better about practicing law), and then we are on to the student loans.  It is not easy, and I am still resentful of the law school scam, the higher education scam, and every other scam I've been taken in by as an adult.  But I figure if I am ever going to have a chance at the life I want (a little cabin somewhere with my dog, my husband, and some good books wouldn't be bad), I am going to need to pay off my "stupid tax" sooner rather than later.

I am going to discuss more of the particulars of my get-out-of-student-loan-debt plan in my next post, but for now I just wanted to put something positive and hopeful out there.  A year ago, I was miserable and depressed, thinking I would forever be in debt and would never be able to have children or even take a vacation.  And now I am getting closer and closer to being debt-free.

Life can be so shitty sometimes, but every once in a while it is simply amazing. 
  

Are your student loans or other debts holding you back from the life you want?

When Life Bites You in the A**

"Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.”
 –Chuck Palahniuk

In case you have not heard, Bridesmaids is on track to becoming Judd Apatow’s highest-grossing film to date. The movie is about a woman named Annie who happens to be going through a particularly dark period. Her business has gone under, her best friend Lillian gets engaged, and her creepy British roommates are itching to kick her out. To top it off, she has to compete for Lillian’s attention with Helen, an uptight harpy who invariably appears to have just stepped out of a J. Crew ad.

I have seen the movie twice in the theater. It is rare to find a movie in which a woman is shown to be going through a tough time professionally that does not end with her landing that Big Job at Vogue. When I do find such a gem, I appreciate it to no end. (The last film I remember welcoming in this way is Sliding Doors, which came out in 1998.)

Spoiler Alert: The rest of my post may give away some details about the movie you might not want to know if you haven’t seen it yet.

What I enjoyed most about this film is the fact that Annie does not find the perfect career in the end. As yet. But she does learn to open herself up to the possibility of finding happiness again, by becoming a better friend (as Jessica Grose at Slate also observes), daughter, and (possibly) mate. Though she does not land a baking segment on The Today Show, she does bake an “apology cake” for her love interest, which ultimately symbolizes her willingness to once again spread a little joy with her God/universe-given baking talent.

End of Spoiler Alert

Since ending my law career, I, like Annie, have attempted to become a better person and to find interests outside of my career. I send more birthday cards these days. I “like” more of my friends’ baby pictures on facebook. I even try to pay more attention to my dog, from whom I could stand to learn a thing or two, since she seems completely fulfilled by a just few walks a day (and the occasional soupcon of peanut butter). I am also looking for new volunteer opportunities, since I am no longer able to volunteer at the same shelter I used to back in my home town.  I hope to one day discover my natural talent and to share it. 

Bridesmaids reminded me that life is never going to be perfect. Career failures and missteps are inevitable, but as Ani DiFranco put it, if I keep looking down, I’ll “just miss all the good stuff.” Including some really funny movies.

What sorts of things have brought you joy in hard times?

From Humility to Humiliation

So where were we? I had just been informed that my temporary admin assignment was going to end after only three short months. My job prospects were pretty slim considering I had just left the legal field and it had taken me months (almost a year?) to find a non-legal job. I felt alienated from everyone – my husband, family (I’ll get to that in another post), friends, former colleagues. Is there any worse feeling than being surrounded by loved ones and feeling totally alone? I even stopped answering my phone because I knew my friends would ask the basic catch-up questions about career, family, and upcoming vacations.

In the meantime, I was still going to work every day, with no real defined expiration date, but I knew I had to act fast. At that point, I simply needed to find a job –any job- that would provide a steady stream of income while I thought about my next move. After all, I still had student loans to pay. So I did something desperate. I applied for a job at a call center. A specific call center. It had always been in the back of my mind as an “in case of emergency” plan. Like the fire escape ladder tucked behind the shoe rack in my closet, I had hoped I would never have to use it.

Did I mention that when I practiced law, I primarily worked as a criminal defense attorney? This little tidbit weighed heavily on me when I decided to apply at “SIP, Inc.,” aka “Suicide is Painless, Incorporated.” You see, the reason I knew the place would probably hire me is because I used to send my clients to them when they needed to find jobs prior to sentencing. No one in their HR department had ever heard the term “background check,” much less performed one. While completing the online application, all I could think about was how I would respond if I ran into a former client. This had happened a couple of times in the past, but I always knew the attorney-client privilege obligated me to ignore them unless they acknowledged me first. I was guessing, however, that if a former client saw me working at the call center, they would probably have a couple questions for me. I decided that if I ever encountered this situation, I would simply lean in, lower my voice, and tell him I had switched to the journalism field and was doing undercover work for an exposé on the various indignities suffered by those who work for minimum wage. I sort of borrowed the concept from Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickel and Dimed, which I had been required to read in a college sociology course, back when I believed higher education would guarantee me a safe, journalistic detachment from the working poor.

The actual application process did not involve uploading a resume or references. All I had to do was list my former employers and contact numbers for them. Since I knew none of my former work places would be contacted, I did not hide the fact that I worked at a law firm. I just did not fill out the section that asked for position titles. Again, I knew no one would read the application; they basically interviewed and hired everyone because of so much turnover. I also disclosed my JD on the education section, knowing the person who read it probably did not know or care what a JD was. A few days after submitting my application, I was contacted by an HR representative who asked me to come in for an interview. This process consisted of taking basic reading and spelling tests, and being introduced to the call center equipment (a headset). If I could spell “sandwich” (the judges probably also would have accepted “sandwhich”) and wear the headset without asphyxiating myself, I was in. I almost cried when they offered me a position, mainly because of the indignity of it all, but somewhat because I knew I would be able to make my student loan payment and possibly even help with other monthly bills.

I also felt a certain sense of relief at having hit bottom. How could things get any worse?

As a side note, I feel like I should be describing the changes occurring in my marriage at this time, but since so much happened at once, that will most likely be my next post. I have come to realize that the only way to eat an elephant is one bite at a time, so I am going to cover only one major change per post until I catch up to present day…

"You do realize we're all going to be dead soon, don't you?"

Once one realizes she no longer wants to be an attorney, being one becomes intolerable.

I remember being mired in despair during my search for a non-legal job, when I would routinely come home from work and log onto job search websites. Sometimes, if I was feeling particularly discouraged, I would skip the job search websites and go straight for a glass of wine. I remember crying to my husband about how I was "wasting my life" and that I was starting to hate living my life. At work, I was miserable, and when I wasn't at work, I was dreading having to go back.

I kept remembering what a friend of mine had once told me when I was complaining to him about some trivial problem I was having: "You know what - who cares? Do you realize we're all going to be dead soon?" At the time, I just laughed, agreed with him, and changed the subject. But when I thought of it in the context of my job situation, it began to have greater meaning. Hating my life was not a trivial problem, but the truth behind the sentiment remained: we are all going to die eventually (even soon if you consider how old the average human is when she dies compared to how old the universe is), so we best not waste precious days worrying about trivial concerns.

And, to be fair, some of my concerns were trivial. Sure, hating my life was a big deal, but worrying about quitting the law was trivial. I worried about how much less money my husband and I would have to live on. I worried about a loss of prestige that results when giving up the job title of "attorney." I worried about how my family and friends would react to the news. I worried about never finding a career that truly fulfills me. These concerns were all trivial when I considered the fact that, if I were to live to be 80 years old, I had already lived approximately 40% of my life. Why spend the remaining 60% worrying about what other people (people I mostly see only on national holidays or at weddings) would think about my decision to leave the law?

During my job search, when I reminded myself that I was going to be dead "soon," it made being an attorney (temporarily) a bit easier, and it made the job search easier, too. I still dreaded upcoming telephone conferences, motion hearings, and unfinished briefs that needed my attention, but I began to separate myself from them emotionally. They were just a part of my job, not a part of me. Motion hearings and briefs would go on if I were dead. My life, however, is temporary, so I began to focus on what I wanted and not what I hated.

With respect to my job search, I started to not care as much about where I ended up working. I had been so consumed with finding the perfect job for me that I didn't stop to think that maybe, at this point in my life, there is no perfect job. Right now, maybe all I need is to earn some income to help pay the bills, and think about what I really want out of life, not just what I want out of a job.

When I tell people that story about my friend dispensing such brash advice, most people think it was rather insensitive. But to this day, I am thankful to him for putting so succinctly what Richard Carlson, of Don't Sweat the Small Stuff... fame, took 272 pages to articulate: "Who cares? Do you realize we're all going to be dead soon?"

The Dreaded Question or "So, Did You End Up Going to Law School?"

Last night, I had an unexpected run-in with a former co-worker. I was at a volunteer orientation meeting. (Since I plan on going into health care, I am going to volunteer some time at one of the local hospitals.) Afterward, as I was leaving, a woman came up to me and told me she couldn't remember my name, but we had worked together a few years back. I recognized her, but couldn't remember her name either. We re-introduced ourselves and began chatting about what we had been up to. She said, "So, when you left, you were talking about going to law school. Did you ever end up going?"

I felt unprepared, to say the least. My mind had been so preoccupied with this upcoming wedding (where I know I will need to explain my recent career developments to old friends) that I had forgotten I might run into people on the street who would ask about what I was doing with my life since the last time I saw them.

I explained that yes, I had gone to law school, and I did end up practicing for a few years. But it wasn't for me, so I left the law about a month ago. I also told her I planned on going back to school. She smiled and told me everything sounded "great," although she did ask me why I left. I told her I didn't like arguing with people all day, laughed, then changed the subject. I left feeling pleased about how smoothly it went. It was good practice for the upcoming wedding. I figure things will go similarly, except people won't really be interested in what I'm saying. That's the upside to having a group of friends that includes a disproportionate percentage of functioning alcoholics. (Actually, they're all just really fun at weddings.)

When I got home, I checked my email and was greeted by a terrific message from a reader, a former attorney, who had this to say about my insecurity:

"You are decompressing in the same way that an alcoholic - no offense intended at all - has withdrawal symptoms. Of course you care about what others think of this mistake which both you and I made. Nevertheless, I'll bet that fewer people wonder about your career choices than you think.

For those who have the audacity to ask you, here's your answer: 'I didn't like being a lawyer.' 'But you spent so much cash on it?' 'I didn't like being a lawyer.' 'But it took three years!' 'I didn't like being a lawyer.' 'But what about your future?' 'I didn't like being a lawyer.'"

Both of these events last night helped me realize how much my apprehension about explaining my decision is self-manufactured. People have their own lives to worry about, so my decision to change careers really isn't that earth-shattering to anyone else but me. Since it's such a major change for me, though, I am a little fixated on it. Much like an alcoholic fixates on sobriety after getting clean. What it ultimately comes down to, for anyone interested in hearing the real story (at the wedding or elsewhere) is this:

I didn't like being a lawyer.

The Joy of Filing

I have to admit, I really enjoy being a temp. Transience is quite freeing. I even found myself sounding chipper at work today when I answered the phone.

My job is not exactly easy, but it is the sort of job that one does not take home with her, so I look forward to my afternoons and evenings. After work, I am free to read, write, and take my dog to the park. In my old life, I would come home from work and immediately log onto job search websites, wondering how I could manipulate my resume somehow to hide my legal career from prospective employers. Sometimes I would even crawl straight into bed with a glass of wine and tell my husband that I didn't really feel like talking until after work on Friday; I simply didn't have the strength.

The not-so-easy aspects of my job? My computer skills are rusty. I am required to make a number of spreadsheets, so I use Excel quite a bit. It's hard to remember all the formulas, so I sometimes have to google the answer when I get stuck. Also, I update the company's website on a daily basis, which requires a basic knowledge of HTML. Again, not my strong suit. But I'm hanging in there, hoping if I do a good enough job, I will have a non-legal reference to carry with me on my transition out of the law.

I had lunch with a co-worker of mine last Friday. She used to be a paralegal, and she considered law school for a while. I told her she made the right decision not going - law school is definitely not for the wishy-washy. I know that now. She agreed, and said that after working at several law firms, she has come to the conclusion that lawyers have personality disorders. I told her that's why I stopped being one.

Is it bad that I don't mind being a peon? Do any of you attorneys or J.D.'s out there dream of a life with less stress and more freedom?

Music That Will Make You Want to Follow Your Dreams

Lately, I've been trying to listen to inspiring music that will keep me pumped up and motivated on my quest to find a fulfilling career after leaving the legal profession. Although I think I may be one of those people who never truly finds happiness at work (maybe I'll be a terminal student and blogger who temps to support herself forever!), I haven't given up on finding career satisfaction just yet. Here's my playlist (it may also come in handy as a good workout mix):

1. Monday Morning by Melanie Fiona

2. Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

3. Undiscovered by James Morrison

4. All My Friends by LCD Soundsystem

5. The Final Countdown by Europe

6. Walking on Sunshine by Katrina and the Waves

7. You're the Best by Joe Esposito

8. The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades by Timbuk3

9. Float On by Modest Mouse

10. Money Can't Buy You Class by Countess Luann (Just kidding!!)

What songs motivate you? I would love to add to my playlist!

Image courtesy of Arvind Balaraman.

Breaking the News to Family and Friends

Since I quit being a lawyer, I have been much happier and I am looking forward to what lies ahead. Except for one day in particular: June 4. This is when I will attend a wedding, where I will be seeing old friends from college. I'm nervous about telling them I am no longer a practicing attorney and have chosen temp work instead. I accept the fact that they will think I am a loser, but I would still like to figure out a way to succinctly explain my career change and graciously change subjects.

I have been accepted into a healthcare program that will take two years to complete, but I will not be starting the program for at least another year (the waiting list is a mile long!). I'll be taking some classes toward the degree in the Fall, but my core classes won't start for another year. So how do I explain that in the meantime, I will be working as a receptionist? My husband keeps telling me that what I'm doing is brave and to just tell everyone that I'm working part-time and doing a little writing before going back to school. I know the problem is how I feel about what I'm doing, not how anyone else feels. Why, then, am I afraid that everyone is going to think I'm a bum? And how do I explain my career change in one sentence so I don't end up rambling and making everyone uncomfortable?

Maybe I should just tell everyone I'm pregnant - people always let women off the hook when they drop the P word. Or, I could tell everyone I can't talk about what I do because I'm working in a top-secret government position. That's what one of my friends always tells everyone, and I'm beginning to suspect she's full of it.

All of you career-changers, laid-off attorneys, and under/unemployed J.D.'s, how do you explain your career circumstances?

The Job Search

After two years of practicing and hating almost every minute of it, I decided to put my resume out there. Mind you, I began my job search when the unemployment rate had approached 10% and many employers were in the middle of a hiring freeze. This may have affected my prospects somewhat.

Most of my applications received no response. I applied at non-profits for office manger and receptionist positions (I have a great deal of administrative office experience). I applied at hospitals for patient advocate positions (who better to be an advocate than a trial attorney?). I applied for paralegal positions. Nothing. Not even a rejection letter.

Then, I applied for a State paralegal position. This required me to complete an exam, which consisted of answering several essay questions outlining my experience and skills. I ranked number 2 (!!) and was offered an interview. This consisted of meeting with a panel of attorneys who asked me the exact same questions I answered on the essay test (??), and a few days later I was called in for a second interview. During the second interview, I felt confident that everything was going well. Until the very last question. One of the interviewers looked at me and said, "I'm a little concerned that you have a law degree, and this is only a paralegal position."

I was fuming. This could have been brought up at the beginning of my first interview, and instead, the interview had been rigged so that I would end on a low note. No matter how you slice it, having to explain why I was switching from practicing law to a support position would involve some negativity. I tried to spin it in a positive way, explaining that I did not enjoy the adversarial nature of law, and that supporting people and organizing projects are areas in which I excel. No dice. I received the rejection letter a week later.

In the meantime, I continued to go to work everyday, arguing with prosecutors about how much jail time my wife-beating, drunk-driving clients should receive, and writing threatening letters to insurance companies on personal injury cases. I died a little more each day. Which is why I continued applying for jobs, even though I knew most of them would never get past an initial screener's eyes since I had two scarlet letters on my resume: J.D.

There were many nights when I came home and cried to my husband about how much I hated myself for choices I had made. I had made a poor decision to spend thousands of dollars on a law degree, which left me $80,000 in debt. I had made a poor decision to stay in law school even after I realized I never wanted to be an attorney. I had made a poor decision to practice law, which only made it harder for employers to believe that I would not be "bored" in another line of work. He tried to be supportive, even telling me at one point to quit my job and just focus on my job search. This would basically mean that we would be living paycheck to paycheck with absolutely no luxuries and barely enough money to even eat. Don't get me wrong - my husband makes an awesome living (about $80,000 per year), but with my student loans, which are about $600 per month, and the fact that we are in about the 28% tax bracket, my husband only brings home about $46,000 per year. With our mortgage, my student loans, and our cars, we would not be able to afford cable, any travel, clothing, books, fuel, or even enough for groceries. So I chose to stick it out.

But, I decided to change my approach to the job search. I had been sending out resumes to jobs that were advertised everywhere, which practically guaranteed that I was wasting my time and energy - most of my applications probably never even made it to a hiring manager. Then I remembered that when I attended community college part-time, I had worked for a temp agency. So I decided to go to some and register, just to get my name out there.

I registered at two. They both gave my resumes to various employers, but no one wanted to hire an attorney. The job recruiters explained that prospective employers felt I was "overqualified." Which never made any sense to me - isn't that better than being under qualified and incompetent? So after about six months of being told how overqualified I was, which was entirely untrue (more on that later), I decided to try for part-time work. One of the recruiters I worked with happened to have a co-worker whose husband was looking for a temp at his company, at $15 per hour. I would be working 30 hours per week. I talked with my husband about it, and he told me to go for it. We could always cancel our cable subscription. So I went on a brief interview and explained that no, I would not mind answering to their paralegal. I almost cried when I was offered the position. I put in my two weeks notice at work and tried not to look back.

I know a lot of career counselors advise against taking "just any job," and some people would probably consider my decision to take a receptionist position as doing just that. But to be honest, this job is helping me develop my computer skills in a way that could never have happened as an attorney, when my secretary did everything for me.

Tell me, what roadblocks have you run into in your job search? How did you overcome them?

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