EXPERIENCE. This is a very tough section of my resume, so I have saved it for last. Isn’t that what an accomplished professional does? Saves the hardest for last? Makes sense to me because, although admittedly unlikely, what if I suffered through the hard part, then died? What a waste of energy and mental capital. Don’t do the hard part til you’re sure you need to.
(Another case in point—ironing. The neighbor to my childhood home ironed all her ironables on Sunday to get ready for the week. Even as a child, I looked upon her with pity. What a waste. I knew even then that one week she’d die and would have at least a few days of clothes ironed that needn’t have been.)
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I am a master of indecision. So I thought I had tackled the tough part when I finally decided, after months of indecision, to jump ship. That is, leave my current employer. But no, the hard part was admitting to myself that, when I do jump, I don’t really care if I land in the sea of legals.
So, here I am, 28 years after graduating from law school, drafting the all-important “Profile” section of my resume. So far, I’ve typed PROFILE. Now I’m stuck.
I had consulted recruiters, obtained resume samples, all I need to do now is define myself post-lawyer. One recruiter told me most employers are so busy, many won’t get beyond the profile section before making the decision about interviewing me. Great. Nothing like amping up the pressure.
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The rejection letters for job applicants start to come in. Some are more personal than others. (Click the image to see the full comic.)
For the past six years, I’ve been able to successfully block out the incredibly mortifying and traumatic memories associated with my performance during the merciless cage fight of OCI. But the recent mini-parade of second-round interviewees through the halls of my office triggered a flashback, thereby unearthing my long-buried recollections. So I figured I might as well confront the trauma head-on and hopefully put the pain to bed forever. But in the course of reliving all of the excruciating mistakes I made during OCI, I realized that there were actual lessons that could be gleaned from each of my missteps. Here they are:
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Believe it or not, Bitter Lawyer has provided cutting-edge, umm, advice for years. And not all of it has to do with showering with partners or shagging associates. Honest. Which is why, with on-campus interviews starting this week at most law schools, we go a bit soft and pull out bitter highlights of past advice for law students. Who else tells it like it is? Actually, don’t answer that.
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QThis is probably a first-year level question, but I was looking for advice on how to select proper writing samples to use when applying for jobs. I am four years out of law school and have accumulated a decent collection of memorandum and demand letters over the years at my current firm and was wondering what kind of documents would be best for writing samples and also what the protocol is for utilizing my work product from my current firm. Should I just limit myself to documents that were actually filed with the court so that they are a part of the public record? Thanks.
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(Click the image to see the full comic.)
QI’m a “rising” 3L at a T1 university, a journal editor, a “B/B+” student, and a social caterpillar–I haven’t done enough in the way of networking to substantiate “butterfly” status, yet. I’m personable, make friends easily, and have always fared well in face-to-face interviews. Oh, and I’ve completely and utterly pissed away both law-school summers.
My first semester as a 1L (chiefly my torts class) derailed any plans I had that were contingent upon self-confidence; i.e., all of them. That isn’t to say that I didn’t understand the material. I was broad-sided by the final exam–my first law school exam–wherein I mysteriously omitted all discussion of legal duty. This was sufficient to earn me my first “C” since the undergraduate chemistry class that I attended three times. Although my other grades were average-to-respectable, that “C” and it’s four credit hour weight pulled me in to the low-middle third of the class, and sent me on a mental death spiral in to a world of self-loathing.
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QI’m a super-bitter laid-off lawyer. I worked my ass off to put myself through law school at night while holding down a full-time job. I graduated at the top 10% of my class, did moot court and worked on one of the Journals. I didn’t think this course of action would land me in BigLaw, but I thought I would at least be employable. I’ve been job searching for eight—count em, eight—months with no success.
Meanwhile, all my friends who drank beer, floated without direction and generally had fun over the past four years are all gainfully employed with no student loan debt. Some even own their own homes, etc.
I want to punch these people in the face. Or, better yet, I want to just get a job—any job—and try to move on with my life. Any suggestions?
AMy name is Ex-Bitter for a reason. While I saw and did it all during my years inside the confines of big firms across America, I haven’t looked for a legal job in years. I’ve chocked my columns full of suggestions in the past from the perspective of the higher ups, but what response to someone who was recently in your shoes would offer?
So, given that my loyal readers have great insights they fortunately love to share—and given that you guys are a lot more dialed into the job-hunt scene—let’s turn it over to you. What the hell can a (supposedly) qualified job candidate do these days to find a gig and not go postal?
Seriously. I’m interested myself.
