When 3Ls come back from their summer jobs, they talk about the steak and the top-shelf bottle service at the hottest club in town. Absent from their glowing reviews is any discussion of actual work. After two years of listening to tales of luxury beyond our wildest dreams, I've arrived in the belly of the free lunch beast.
It turns out that there is work to do. Not so much that I have to sleep under my desk, but enough to keep me here past when we're rounded up for cocktails somewhere. This makes the workday (and sometimes a few hours on the weekend) a mad dash to get work done. Some of it is interesting, a good deal of it isn't, but that's what the law is - the hundreds of hours of doc review that pave the way to a brilliant cross-examination.
A little bitching and moaning at happy hour may make the daily dash a little easier. However, the firm is paying you hand over fist for work they probably won't even bill out to clients, feeding you the best food the city has to offer and soaking you in expensive booze. There are public interest interns out there eating ramen for lunch and typing memos on PCJrs.
Let's face it: no matter how great a job is (and summering at a law firm is among the best), there must be griping. Yet here, we have to be as grateful at all times, no matter what. Life outside the firm may be complicated and generally nutso and the work itself may cause the occasional drowning feeling, but nobody wants to take off the happy face.
I suppose that's what shrinks are for. As an added plus, as Dr. Melfi learned last week, therapy helps sociopaths be better liars. What more could an aspiring lawyer ask for?
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