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

Four Years of Debt Freedom

Warren, you had one job!

Greetings from La La Land (or is it Moonlight?)! :) I couldn’t resist.

It feels like it’s been forever since I updated my blog! Thank you to everyone who emailed me or left kind words in the comments. It really helped lift my spirits since my last depressing post.

I figured that even though I’m still struggling with life here in the city of angels, I have much to be thankful for. To wit: March 2nd was our fourth anniversary of debt freedom! It’s surreal to think about because so much has happened since then. Here’s a recap of

Letting Go

A few weeks ago, I was catching up with “Howard” (the colleague I interviewed in episodes 3 and 4 of my podcast) After chatting about what’s new in both of our lives, the conversation inevitably turned to the subject that has bonded the two of us ever since we met at the bus stop on that first day of 1L year: the practice of law.  

We both have strong feelings about it. 

Back in law school, Howard was the smart one

99 Homes and the Law School Bubble: We Got Emotional About JDs

My husband and I recently watched a movie called 99 Homes, starring Michael Shannon (Boardwalk Empire) and Andrew Garfield (The Amazing Spiderman). It’s a thriller about the foreclosure crisis that happened just a few short years ago, and when I say thriller…

I mean thriller.

I went in thinking it would be more of a drama – the streaming service we used billed it as a thriller and I thought, “No way, what could be so thrilling about adjustable rate mortgages?” But there is a dread that hangs over every scene and a tension that pulls the viewer along, all the way to an ending that didn’t quite feel right (watch it and you’ll see what I mean).

In it, Michael Shannon plays Rick Carver, a real estate broker who represents banks that have

"So You Think You Can Tell"

What label describes you?

One thing that I still struggle with since leaving the law is the concept of identity. The main reason I went to law school to begin with was I didn’t know myself very well, which meant I had no idea what I wanted to be when I grew up. I’d always loved writing, but I didn’t think I could ever make money at that, so instead I listened to all the people I heard chattering in my political science and philosophy courses, and the professors who taught them. “Go to law school,” they all said. Or at least that’s what I heard.

During my last year of undergrad, everyone seemed to be taking the LSAT, so

Podcast Episode 2: All Over But the Shouting

This week, I discuss my take on an LA Times article regarding the class action lawsuits that disgruntled grads have filed against a number of law schools.  I apologize for some indelicate language I used, but I was a bit worked up.  Also included is part 1 of my interview with "Howard," a former law school classmate of mine.  He recently transitioned to a non-legal position, and in the first part of the interview we discuss why he went

New Beginnings, a Podcast, and a Giveaway...

You may have noticed that I changed my blog name from Attorney to Temp to Legally Obligated.  I did this because I am no longer a temp, and I'm no longer just transitioning out of practicing law, but I still feel compelled to tell my story and to support other people who are deep in student loan debt.  So I thought Legally Obligated would be a more appropriate name.  Anyway, here is my first podcast!  (Scroll to the bottom to listen.)  Hopefully it will help me reach more people who are going through the same things I did.  I experienced some technical difficulties, but I think the next one will be smooth sailing.  So apologies for any volume level variations and such.

My first podcast includes my take on the U.S. News Law School rankings that were released last week, plus a story about an encounter I had with a woman who is considering going to law school, and some other

The Ides of March

I’ve heard that when you go on the Dave Ramsey plan (or any kind of plan for that matter), anything that can go wrong, will.  In terms of the baby steps, I think a lot of people experience Murphy’s Law in the first month of baby step two.  You get all excited about saving money to put toward your debt and then all of a sudden, boom!  Your water heater breaks, or the transmission on your car bites the dust.  It’s sort of the universe testing your resolve to get out of debt. 

We experienced a bit of that in the beginning of our debt snowball plan, but for the most part we didn’t have too much bad luck during baby step 2.  And then, a few days after we mailed our final payoff, I was driving home from work and heard a small crack! sound.  In the corner of my windshield was a little star-shaped chip, no more than a half inch in diameter.  It’s ok, I thought.  We can get that repaired.  No big deal.  And then, a couple minutes later, I heard a much louder crack! and saw that the star-shaped chip suddenly spread a foot across into my line of vision.  

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?"

Something Amazing Just Happened

I wrote a couple weeks ago about our progress in paying off the last of our debt, my federal student loan.  Well, since then, something really great has happened.  As of today, we are officially debt free.  How did this happen?  Well, we had saved up about $20,000 and we had $50,000 more to go.  When we moved across the country a couple years ago, we did so because my husband took a job with a start-up company.  His compensation package included stock options.  The company has since gone public, and in February, we were allowed to exercise the options.  After taxes, they were worth just over $50,000.  We took it as a sign from the heavens to cash out and be rid of the debt, so we did.  Today, we mailed the payoff.

The Pizza Diaries, Part 10: Sleepless in Seattle

By spring, I was tired. 

I’d been moonlighting as a pizza delivery driver for five months, five nights a week.  The original plan had been three nights a week, but given inflated fuel costs, it was tough for the pizzeria to hold on to drivers for any meaningful period of time.  Hence, more shifts to go around.  More nights sweeping Parmesan shavings and cardboard chads from underneath the prep area while waiting for the delivery screen to light up with orders.  More nights divvying up the last of the deliveries with Lou, my favorite driver (the Thai man who spoke kitchen Spanish).

“How long you plan on being here, Lou?  Delivering pizzas, I mean.”

“Eh, six month maybe.  Saving money to retire back to Thailand.”

“And you can’t just go now?”

“Nah, gotta pay the ex-wife.  She get everything in divorce.”

Lawyers and Anxiety

I was talking with a lawyer friend of mine the other night who wanted some dating advice from me.  A woman on a dating site had messaged him asking my friend to tell her more about himself.  He called me in a panic.

“So tell her about yourself.  What’s the big deal?”

“Well, everything there is to know about me is in my profile.”

“Come on, I’ve seen your profile.  All it says is that you’re a lawyer and you like to watch sports.”

“Yeah, I know, what else is there to tell?”

“Well, what do you think about all day?  What new things do you want to try?  What do you think the meaning of life is?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it.”

“Haven’t you ever read a book that’s completely out of the realm of what you would normally read?  Or listened to some world radio station at random just to see if you like it?”

“Why would I do that?”


I didn’t know how to respond.  On the one hand, I understood where he was coming from because I used to be him.  When I practiced law, I stopped reading books for pleasure altogether.  And as for music, the only kind I liked to listen to was anything that could put me to sleep at night the fastest.  (I had a hard time sleeping back then.) 

And on the other hand, I knew he needed a kick in the ass.  His lack of engagement with his own life is a classic sign of lawyer malaise/burnout.  So I told him I was going to send him an assignment.  I would send him a list of activities he could perform that might bring him enjoyment and teach him a little bit about himself. 

As I wrote the list, I started thinking more about my previous life as an attorney.  The tone in my friend’s voice revealed some universal truths about being a lawyer.  Lawyers are anxious about virtually every transaction that occurs in their lives (hence, my friend’s panic about the woman who messaged him) and lawyers tend to not cultivate their own personalities and lives since they are often so busy sorting out messes others have made with theirs.  This lack of engagement with one’s own life inevitably leads to more anxiety.  I’ll give you some examples from my own experience. 

When I practiced law, I remember procrastinating all the time.  I would put off writing a brief until the last minute because most of the time, the assignment was just so achingly boring that I had a hard time accepting the fact that I actually had to complete it.  A heavy cloud of deadlines constantly loomed over my head as a result, and a large knot took up residence in my stomach.  

I also had a hard time making decisions.  I would get a settlement offer from a prosecutor or from opposing counsel in a civil case, and my mind would run through every possible scenario for how things could turn out based on how I advised my client to proceed.  It paralyzed me because I could not stop running through these scenarios, even after my client made a decision and the matter was settled.  Settlement only provided more scenarios that involved claims of malpractice or regrets about not pushing the client’s luck at trial and possibly getting a better result.

Since I operated inside of an anxiety-ridden world at work, these same anxieties spilled over into my personal life, specifically finances.  I would pay my bills on time, but I had no plan for saving, for paying off my husband’s and my enormous student loan debt, or for saving up an emergency fund that would cover a few months of expenses in the event of an emergency. If I got a bonus at work or we ended up with more money than expected at the end of the month, we used the windfall to pay off our credit card balance, or some other expense would pop up seemingly out of nowhere.    

I got so used to consoling myself with new clothes, magazines, dinners out, even a new car.  I rationalized this behavior with the belief that if I could not enjoy what I did for most of my days, I would at least look good and be well entertained after hours.  I never wanted to budget because the thought of taking stock of my debt would only accentuate the fact that there was no way out of practicing law for the foreseeable future.  Not with student loan payments, car payments, and credit card payments to think about.

And then an amazing thing happened after I quit law.  Not right away, but soon afterward, I found myself feeling a bit more hopeful about my future.  At the end of the workday, I had time to think about what I wanted out of life and to make a plan for how to get there.  In my lawyering days, all I thought about after work was heading for the wine bottle when I walked in the door, or dreading the next morning when I would have to wake up and repeat the same miserable day over and over again.

I wonder to this day if there is a way I could have happily practiced law.  I don’t think there is.  I think if I had continued on the path I was going down, I would have become more and more disengaged with my own existence.  Maybe to the point where I would panic when someone asked me about myself because, like my friend who was emailed by a potential date the other night, I had nothing to say. 

These days, I still suffer from anxiety, but of a different variety.  Now I have many goals I would like to achieve and not enough time to reach them all.  Most of them have nothing to do with work.  I am reading again and enjoying music.  I don’t waste money anymore trying to console myself with material goods that are temporary and can never fill an emotional void.  I am finally dealing with my law school debt, a debt that will soon be a distant memory.  And I am confident that if someone asks me to talk about my life, I will actually have something to say.

Are you an anxiety-ridden attorney?  Do you find yourself disengaged with your life or do you think it's possible to find a good work-life balance while practicing law?

The Pizza Diaries, Part 2: What I Wouldn't Give for a Flux Capacitor

My first week as a pizza delivery driver, all I could think about was what I would do if I were ever invited into Doc Brown’s DeLorean.  I guess the first thing I would do is pay a visit to my twenty-six year-old self and beat the shit out of me with my LSAT study guide.  And then I’d rip up my Grad Plus Loan application. 

But according to the most senior driver at the pizzeria, I was supremely lucky. 

Drivers at Papa John’s have to make pizzas and wash dishes in between deliveries, "Reed" informed me.   At the local mom-and-pop pizzeria we worked for, on the other hand, drivers basically just sat around during slow periods.

“Reed” had worked at Papa John’s for a number of years, and held a bit of a grudge from what I gathered.  Maybe his bitterness stemmed from the time he had to wait for a seventy-five year-old naked woman (with some hygiene deficiencies) to sign her credit card slip before he could escape to the welcoming bosom of his rusted-out, Clinton-era Corolla.  Or maybe it started the afternoon he had to watch the first-in delivery driver scamper away with four separate deliveries while Reed stared dejectedly at the blank order screen in the kitchen’s expediting area.  A blank screen is the bane of every driver’s existence.  A blank screen equals no pending orders equals no hope.

“There’s not even an industry term for taking four deliveries at one time.  I guess you’d have to say he took two doubles.” 

“Doubles” are a driver’s dream.  You get to take two orders out at once, which saves on time and gas.  And you get double the tips.  “Triples” are better, but a triple is the unicorn of the pizza delivery business.  No one’s ever really witnessed one, and only the youngest, least experienced drivers believe in its existence. 

Reed swept me under his wing immediately.  I liked to think it was because he saw me as Eliza Doolittle with a thermal delivery bag, someone he could mold into a street-savvy driver who knew all the shortcuts and speed traps.  In reality, I think he was simply relieved I spoke English.  He’d been waiting to unload some Papa John’s angst for a while, I could tell.

I would be lying if I said I feigned interest in his Papa John’s saga because there was no feigning on my part.  My brow involuntarily furrowed as he described the scores of no-tipping customers he had encountered.  The mobile home parks with no marked addresses as far as the eye could see.  The Super Bowl Sunday when two of the cooks called in sick and he got stuck manning the oven rather than raking in tips on the biggest pizza day of the year.

I got lucky, Reed told me.

I wished I felt that way, but that first week of moonlighting as a pizza delivery driver, I felt anything but.  I had been hired in the span of about twelve minutes, nine of which were comprised of me filling out a single-sided, one-page employment application.  Had I been convicted of a felony?  Did I have any violations on my driving record?  When was I available to work?  No, no, and any night after 5:30p.m.  Once they saw my clean driving record, I was in.

I didn’t really have any time to consider what I was getting myself into.  I accepted the job immediately and was to start only a few short days later.  I could wear whatever I wanted, aside from a company-provided polo shirt.  I also received a hat, which was optional.  Before my first shift, I changed into my uniform in the restaurant bathroom.  I took one glimpse of myself in the mirror and decided the hat had to go.  The hat I could not bear.

I kept my head down while walking through the main area of the restaurant, just in case I ran into any colleagues.  I wasn’t ready for that kind of radical honesty just yet.  I should’ve opted to keep my head down while on deliveries as well.  The first time I was met with a sympathetic look at a customer’s door, I was mortified.  I had really sunk to a new low.  “I guess everyone needs a job,” the bleached-blonde forty-something woman condescended.  A peek over her shoulder into her living room revealed a serious hoarding addiction, and yet, she felt sorry for me. 

But after I got over the initial shame, I started to have a little fun with it.  My favorite driver, “Lou,” was a Thai man who spoke kitchen Spanish.  “Estoy cerrando!” he would declare to the cooks in faux exasperation.  “Y tu tambien?” 

We called each other “partners” since we were scheduled to close together on Mondays, and then eventually on Saturdays.  “Hey, path-nah!”he would greet me on those evenings.  While we waited for the order screen to light up, he provided me with remedial Spanish lessons, while I regaled him with descriptions of what I would feast on when I got home. He loved to hear what my husband would be cooking for me on those nights, since he was divorced and mostly ate at the pizzeria.  Employees got free meals anytime.

Lou took care of me, while Reed taught me to look out for numero uno. 

Lou:  “No steal tip.  Whatever credit card slip say, I put in computer, even if zero.  You no want that stress on your conscience.”

Reed: “You know, if you get an order over a hundred dollars, and they tip you in cash, you can just tell the managers you got stiffed, and the restaurant’ll pay you ten percent.”

The one mandate on which they both agreed?  Avoid complaints at all costs.  Any driver who received a complaint about his or her driving was automatically suspended for three shifts while the restaurant investigated. 

That, incidentally, is what pizza delivery has in common with the practice of law.  One can be incompetent as hell, but can continue to practice as long as he or she flies under the radar.  If the Bar gets wind of any shenanigans, one’s career can be toast.

My time travel fantasy did not disappear overnight, but it gradually faded from an all-consuming obsession into a tolerable foggy notion in the back of my mind.  I tried not to feed it too much, but I did develop a ritual I would perform at the beginning of each shift.  As I drove away from the pizzeria with my first delivery each evening, I would listen to Huey Lewis and the News’ “Power of Love.” 

What can I say?  It helped.

A Hollow Victory

As you can see from the pic posted here, I have fully repaid one of my student loans.  This particular loan came directly from my school, which is why I cut out references to my alma mater's name.  That leaves me with one other loan that I am currently repaying, and then I am done.  I have about one more year, give or take, of Spartan living before I am debt-free, and I can close the dark chapter of my life known as Law School.  When I received this payoff notice, at first I felt a sense of pride and hope.  Soon I would actually be able to save some of the money I earn and build wealth for my future.

But after I read and re-read the second sentence, pride and hope were replaced with frustration and sadness.  Because I repaid my loan, some other poor schmuck now has the ability to take out crippling student loan debt.  And my school's low default rate remains intact, resulting in further federal student loan funding.


I suppose some might believe that since I repaid my loan, as so many fellow alumni of my school have, then I must have benefited from higher education.  After all, how could I earn enough to repay my loan in under five years if my employment prospects had not brightened as a result of my degrees?

Having the benefit of hindsight, I can honestly say now that I did benefit somewhat from my earning my bachelor's degree.  The positions I've held since graduating have all required a four-year degree (save for some moonlighting jobs I have taken in order to repay my loans at a faster rate), and almost everyone has one nowadays, so it's hard to compete in the marketplace without one.  BUT.  I should not have taken out student loan debt to earn it.  Although I worked almost full-time during my undergraduate years, I realize now that I could have cash-flowed my BA had I worked and saved for a couple more years before enrolling.  It might have taken me longer to get through my program, but probably not as many more months or years as it has taken me to pay off half of my loans.  And, I would not have had to pay interest.

As far as my law degree is concerned, I can honestly say now that I did not benefit from earning my JD.  The positions I've held since graduating (aside from any associate/law school intern positions) have been obtained by omitting or downplaying my law degree on resumes and applications.  I do not list my JD on my resume (a resume is, after all, just a marketing tool), and when I fill out applications, I only list my JD if I am asked to list all of my higher education degrees.  The fact of the matter is simply that employers do not want to employ lawyers or JD's in non-lawyer positions.  Unless that lawyer or JD is going to run a fortune 500 company or teach law.  Last time I checked, I think all of those positions have been filled.

I am not sure what else to say about law school to those considering it, except: Don't go.  Please.  You will absolutely regret it.  I do not know any happy lawyers, or any recent graduates who are happy that they decided to attend.  I cannot put it any simpler.  It will leave you in a financial hole that will take years, if not decades, to crawl out of.  And the legal market is saturated.  What else can be said?

I hope this post will give some of my fellow JD's and recovering lawyers some hope for their financial futures.  I am not debt-free yet, but I know I will be soon.  At that point, I will be able to say that law school took [X number of] years from me, rather than my entire life.

The Flawed Law School Model

I have referenced the law school "scam" and the failed/flawed law school model many times, but now I think I should discuss in further detail what exactly I mean when I reference these.  Here are my thoughts (in no pariclar order of importance). 

Law school does not prepare students to be small business owners.

At orientation, there were many speakers who described the rigors of a legal education, the stress that comes with applying to the Bar, the "many doors" that JD's open, all peppered with jokes about the fancy cars that most lawyers drive. What none of these speakers mentioned is that most attorneys, especially in the current job market, are basically on their own. They did not tell me that career services would not help those students who were ranked below the top 33% of their classes, and would instead tell them they would need to hang out their own shingles. (True story: an unfortunate classmate of mine had a 3.0 GPA, and was ranked just in the middle of the class. She was paying out-of-state tuition, and had racked up $160,000 in loans, when she went to career services for help in finding a job. She was told to hang out her own shingle, even though she had no business training and the law school did not offer a course in operating one's own practice.) I was lucky enough to find a decent-paying job upon graduation, but if I had not, I would have been in the same boat as many of my classmates, forced to run a small business with no training and no idea how to even practice law.

If you are considering law school, I implore you to first ask yourself whether you know how to run a business, and if so, do you think you can run that business successfully when you do not even know if you are competent to offer your services?

Which brings me to my next point.

Law school does not prepare students for the actual practice of law.

I completed an internship during the summer after my 2L year at the DA's office. This provided me with courtroom experience, but most of my fellow students were not as fortunate. Most law students take classes that involve listening to lectures, reading case law and statutes, and maybe conducting an exercise or two in oral argument. None of which matter when you are faced with an actual client sitting across your desk.

Even with my valuable experience of representing the State in the courtroom for a few weeks, I still had no idea how to conduct a client meeting, or how to structure a fee agreement. Or even how to go about suing someone in the state in which I practiced. All of that knowledge came later, after I had the opportunity to work with more experienced attorneys who showed me the ropes and who made me calendar deadlines properly.

This is a critical failure of the current law school model. No one knows what they're doing upon graduation. New graduates are in need of mentors, but oftentimes they end up on their own, and they end up failing or quitting or moving back in with their parents because they cannot develop enough business to support themselves.

Here is a valuable law school exercise that I will provide you at no charge: go to the Supreme Court's website and read through some of the opinions. Then go to your state legislature's website, or your city/municipality's website and read a chapter of statutes or ordinances. Pick out a topic that interests you like criminal law, or insurance regulation. Once you have finished reading your cases and statutes/ordinances, ask yourself what you would tell a client who was arrested, or who felt he had been defrauded by his insurance company. How would you tell him to proceed? What would you tell him you could do for him? How much would you charge him? What timeline would you provide for resolving his case? Do you think he will prevail?

If you feel that after reading the materials I assigned you, you could confidently answer these questions, then law school is for you. There are two reasons I say this: you are either a) a genius who will be picked up by one of the big firms and you will not have to worry about figuring things out yourself, or b) so delusional that you probably do not have the mental faculties required to complete a JD, so you will never have to worry about practicing on your own.

The study of law is nothing like actual law practice.

This flows from my previous point that law school does not prepare one for the practice of law. In law school, students partake in the Socratic method. You read a bunch of materials and the professor drills you on them, questions everything you say. You must defend your position on a topic that is almost always interesting and has vast political implications. At the end of the semester, the professor will read your essay exam and provide you with a grade that reflects how well he or she believes you have retained the lessons imparted during the past few months.

In reality, when you practice law, most of the time you will be sitting alone in a room, keeping track of billable hours, and drafting mind-numbing research memos. One after the other. Westlaw and/or Lexis will become your best friends and worst enemies. Your research topics will most likely involve issues that no one cares about, save for the client. Can Janie sue her classmate for spilling soda at prom, which caused her to slip and fall and sprain her ankle? What is Fred's recourse when his insurance company offers him less than he had anticipated for the car that he totaled? Can Pam get a restraining order on her ex-boyfriend even though he has never hit her, but her parents think he is controlling? If Pam gets that restraining order, how will that affect her ex's child support obligations or custody arrangement?

Oh, and did I mention the best part? No one will read these memos. You see, your supervising attorney does not have time to read them because he or she tees off at 3:00 sharp. He or she would simply like to know the answer to the question, in 10 seconds or less, and will then direct you to file the memo away, just in case the client ever questions the bill. That memo will serve as proof that actual work was performed for the client. But no one will grade you on it. No one will tell you how awesome your case law synthesis turned out or want to speak with you further about the greater implications of the answers to these legal questions. No one cares, you see, because no one wants to actually practice law. They just want to make enough money to afford country club dues and to pawn off research assignments on young associates, who will then turn around and do the same in a few years when it's their turn.  And you will not be one of these lucky young associates because the legal job market is steadily shrinking and most small firms will not even consider anyone not in the top half of their class (which leaves a lot of graduates with their cheese out in the wind) and the big firms will only consider the top 10-20%, depending on school ranking. 

If you are considering law school, ask yourself if you could handle working in a field in which no one will ever give you positive feedback, whether it is a supervising attorney or a client. The supervising attorneys will only gripe if there are holes in your research, but will otherwise remain silent, and clients will only complain about your bill. If you manage a favorable outcome for them, it was because their cause was just. If you do not, it is because you were incompetent. Do you want this for yourself? Or, more appropriately, would you ever wish this on anyone?

Unless you have a scholarship or a rich relative paying your tuition, your income will almost never justify the amount spent earning your JD.

Consider that the average law school debt for public school graduates is a little over $68K and over $109K for private schools (for the 2009-2010 school year). Suppose you are able to spread out $68K over 30 years. Your payments, assuming a 6% interest rate, will be $408 per month. $109K spread out over 30 years will be $654 per month. Remember, this assumes 6% interest, and that you can spread the loans out over 30 years. So that's between $4,896 and $7,848 per year spent on student loan payments, not counting undergraduate degree payments. You can only deduct $2,500 per year on your federal income taxes, and only for the first five years after you begin repaying. Considering the average attorney salary has been steadily dropping (to about $63K currently), this means you will be spending somewhere around 10% of your income on student loan payments. Considering that the average salary for a college graduate is $46K, what exactly have you gained from earning a law degree? A few thousand dollars a year? Which will be eaten away by all of the extra hours spent working in a field that will eat away at your soul and make you want to auction off your JD.

Let’s do a little math here and figure out just how well you’ll be living with a JD and an annual salary of $63K.  Would you like to buy a house? Have a car? Health insurance? Contribute to your retirement? Ok, then, let’s go!

Assuming you are single, you will be in the 25% federal tax bracket. And we’ll assume state and local taxes are 5%, give or take. And your health insurance premiums are $300 per month. And that you contribute 2.5% of your salary to your 401(k). Here are your pre-tax deductions:

$5,250 is your gross monthly pay.

After deducting $300 for health insurance premiums and $131.25 for 401(k), you are left with $4,818.75. Now comes Big Bertha, also known as the IRS. Deduct 30% for federal, state, and local taxes, which brings your monthly take-home to $3,373.13.

Now let’s say you purchase a $165,000 home with no money down and a 30-year fixed-rate mortgage at 5% interest. Your mortgage payment will be $885.76. Assume property taxes to be about 3%, which is $4,950 annually. That’s $412.50 per month. (My husband’s and my property taxes were a lot higher than this, but we are from a ridiculously expensive state). Ok, here’s your monthly budget:

$3,373.13

-$885.76 (mortgage)
-$412.50 (property taxes)
-$150.00 (heating, cooling, and electricity, which will vary by state and climate)
-$100 (phone/cell)
-$100 (cable, internet)
-$300 (car payment)
-$100 (car insurance)
-$400 (groceries)
-$200 (gas)
$724.87 (surplus)

Now, how are you going to spend that extra $725 per month that you have lying around? Movies, clothing, furniture, meals out? Oh, wait, I forgot one of the most important deductions. Your student loan! Let’s take away $654, assuming you have $100K in student loan debt at 6% interest amortized over 30 years. That leaves you with $71. You can spend it however you want – credit card bill, clothing, dates (which you probably won’t have many of, since people with six-figure debt do not have much value on the marriage market), anything! Just be sure not to have any emergencies, like a broken down car or a molar in need of a root canal.  And absolutely no vacations or kids!  (If you really want to find some extra cushion in your budget, you can always drive a beater until you are sixty, or take on a second job.)  But remember, it is all worth it because you are a prestigious attorney.

If you are considering law school, think about whether you actually want to practice law, and are willing to mortgage your future in the hopes of successfully building a career in a field in which salaries continue to decrease, as well as demand. Do you think you will be able to later out-earn your current financial stupidity?

Law schools lie about employment statistics.

Another topic not discussed at orientation? Graduate employment statistics. The speakers did not clarify whether the 97% boasted at my school reflected the number of graduates who were actually employed in the legal field, or if that figure included graduates who were forced to find work in other lucrative fields. Nor did anyone discuss the way in which employment statistics are calculated, and whether the statistics are actually plausible.

If you are considering law school, the first thing you should do is write down a list of the schools you would like to attend.  Then pick out your top choice, and get your hands on a list containing the names of its most recent graduates.  (Try attending a graduation and obtaining a program there, or call up the school and say you had a relative who recently graduated and were wondering if you could get a copy of the program.)  Now the real fun will begin.  Wait a few months, then go to the Bar website for the state in which the school is located and start looking up the names of the graduates.  See how many you find that list an actual employer under their contact information, rather than their home address.  For the names that do not appear anywhere, begin looking those up on other Bar websites until you have exhausted all of your resources.  Now count the names of those who you did not find, or who did not list an employer in their contact information.  Take that number and subtract it from the number of total graduates you looked up.  Then divide that number by the total number of graduates you looked up and you will arrive at an accurate employment figure.  But that will all take too long or require too much effort, you say?  I say you’re right, it’s better to just go six figures into debt by relying on a brochure than to conduct any actual research yourself.  I'm sure the guy who wrote the brochure dotted his i's and crossed his t's.  I mean, what's in it for him to fudge the numbers? (I should probably warn you that your hesitation at embarking on such an involved research assignment does not bode well for your future as a practicing attorney.  Just sayin’.) 

The Bottom Line

My point in discussing the flawed law school model is not to piss on anyone's dreams of becoming the next Perry Mason. What I would like to see is transparency in advertising employment statistics, frankness when discussing job prospects with students, course offerings in how to run one's own practice, tuition rates that reflect current market demand and compensation, and more opportunities for students to observe and experience the reality of law practice.

Are you considering law school? And if so, is there anything that could convince you not to go, or do you think you have made up your mind no matter what?

How Many Doors Did Your JD Open?

For anyone who's bitter about high student loan debt and/or the dearth of (paying) legal jobs out there, check out this piece from Nando of Third Tier Reality, which sheds some unflattering light on the higher education scam.  It includes some sobering statistics regarding the glut of student loan debt in the U.S., the lack of available jobs that require advanced degrees, as well as the frighteningly inflated tuition prices some law schools are charging their "customers" these days.  

Also, if you feel like getting involved in protesting or sharing your views on the higher education scam, check out the upcoming protest scheduled to take place October 8th in San Diego, California. 

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?