The Laid Off Diary: Dear Diary…this sucks.

Dear Diary:

When I was in grade school, I had to grow these stupid bean stalks for 4-6 weeks (I can’t recall the exact time frame). At the end of the 6 weeks or so, we would have to bring them in and we were going to be graded on how high they grew. The person with the tallest bean stalk won some sort of stupid shit (like a Judy Bloome book or a frisbee).

I mean, what the hell. I had other shit to do than watch bean stalks grow. Our teacher even suggested that we talk to our bean stalks because the CO2 would help them grow. The only talking I did was curse at them.

At any rate, I threw them in six individual little cups, filled them with dried dirt I got from a dirt patch near the street, poured some water, fertilizer my mom had left over from her orchids that always ended up dying, and hamster poop (from my fat ass hamster) and put them on the window sill. I completely forgot about them for a while but I think my mom watered them for me every now and then.

Then I remember how excited I was when I saw the first green speck come out of the dirt. I would observe them every day. When the first leaf bud seedling thing came out, I remember being pretty excited and anxious for it to uncurl and open its leaves. After they peak out of the dirt, they start to grow pretty quickly and sprout more “branches” (are they called branches? fuck, I don’t know. I obviously disliked biology) and more leaves and shit. They look completely different at night than they did in the morning. It was exciting to watch them grow. As long as they sprouted (one poor kid had a dud and was marked down for it), there was no stopping them. I started watering them and throwing more fertilizer and hamster poop on them and they kept growing. I was pretty happy with them at the end of 6 weeks but it was partly because I knew I was pretty lucky because I didn’t do shit and they still grew.

I didn’t win anything, probably because I didn’t do enough research on fertilizer or find a place to maximize sunlight, moisture retention, and temperature consistency because I wasn’t a nerd but if I did, I’m sure my bean stalks would have been pretty damn tall–maybe tall enough to win that frisbee my brother’s bad tempered chow would have chewed up.

But everything I’m doing now makes me think about these damn bean stalks. I’ve called every partner, senior associate, recruiter, or professional contact that I’ve made since I’ve been laid off. They’ve all tried to help and give me advice but nothing has come to fruition. I’ve been following leads, trying to branch out, making new contacts, etc. Sometimes when I see a job opportunity, I work myself up over it and get the feeling “this is the job! this is it! I’m made!” but I either don’t get the job or it turns out to be b.s.

Sometimes when I meet someone, I’m hoping to have that “this is the guy!” feeling. This is the guy that I was meant to meet. You read all those bios about the big law firms and it always tells a story about how a billion years ago (yes, a billion because that’s how far removed the firm’s attitude is from what’s really going on now and what its associates and clients want today) these two or three lawyers met, became friends, and had a eureka moment to form a firm that then became one of the most “famous-est” of “famous-est” firms (who, today, probably have had 2-3 rounds of lay offs). But what they didn’t tell you is that these people probably met about a thousand other people, many of which were jack-offs or many of which thought they were jack-offs, before they found each other and each person they met along the way may have helped them get to where they were to meet the person they were supposed to meet.

So I shouldn’t be discouraged that nothing has grown yet in my little plastic cup filled with dirt and manure (mainly manure right now left over from BigLaw). I’m just laying the seeds that will eventually grow and I need to learn to be patient. Each contact is a potential seed that may grow and lead to an opportunity. (or at least each contact is a learning experience or some jack-off I can laugh at later).

I have a JD from a top school, good achievements and BigLaw experience–that’s some damn good dirt for my seeds to be in (that sounds totally dirty–oh, no pun intended because that would be a lame and cheesy pun). But this time, unlike in grade school, I’m going to take my time in researching the best optimal conditions for my little seeds to grow and take care of them from beginning to end. I just need to be patient.

This time will also give me a chance to find out what kind of plant I want to grow in my cup (and this time, it won’t be a banana tree for corporate monkeys to sit on and fling poo at each other).

–building a hydroponic garden

Dear Diary:

I realize people offer advice for the most part out of the goodness of their hearts–your dad, your mom, your dad again, your uncle, your old roommate from college, your dad again, your ex-dog walker, your grandparents, your dad again, your mom again, your brother, friends who aren’t in the legal world, your dad again…

But seriously, don’t say this to me: “You know what you need to do? You just need to get a job.”

No. Fucking. Shit.

Do these people think that I’m just sitting around with all these job offers and complaining about being broke for fun?

My roommate said that to me the other day when my roommate and my roommate’s friend were going out to dinner and they invited me out and I was complaining about being broke, the man, the weather, the man again, and about being broke again. My roommate actually said, “I think you just need to get a job and that will solve most of your problems.”

No, I just got a job offer for $300K a year but I thought I’d turn it down thinking it would solve most of my problems.

If another friend says to me: “I just don’t understand why you can’t find a job” I’m going to bring headbutting back in style.

And what do you mean by “a job”? I’m sure Starbucks would hire me. I’m also sure I could be a server at one of those annoying chain restaurants where I would have to wear 15 pieces of flare. And while we’re at it, a blow job is still technically a job.

But I need a job that can pay the bills and is worth giving up my unemployment check for. (wow, my standards have really gotten low).

Yesterday, one of my out of town friends visiting NYC was arguing with me because my friend didn’t understand why I couldn’t find a job that pays enough to cover my school loans, rent, etc. when the average salary of first years is like $90-100K according to law schools (my friend had looked into going to law school a few years back). Do people not know how math works? If some poor guy is making $40K a year starting but some jackass (formerly, me–well, actually I started as a first year before it was raised to $160K) is making $160K starting, then the average of the two is $100K. But that still means the poor schmuck is still making $40K, probably living at home, and hating the fact that most of his paycheck goes to pay his student loans for a useless degree.

I have signed up for a temp agency and most of the jobs don’t include over time (even though you work over time) and are only a few bucks more than what my friends were making before they passed the bar in tinylaw.
Hell, even my dog walker makes more per hour than I would at these temp jobs.

This, my friend, is what the world has come to.

–needing some job money