There are so many great movies out there. A lot of them from the 1980s starred my favorite actor, Tom Hanks. The line in the title block to this post was itself from one of this great movies, The Man with One Red Shoe. This week, the final week before we get bar results, makes me wonder about next week. I mean, would I rather the Russians attack than to find out how I actually did?
It’s not as if I am countdown calendar free. I can honestly tell you down to the second how long it is before the results are posted, publicly, for all the world to use in humiliation to those who do not pass. But, for some reason, tonight when we were at the gas station, it all of a sudden hit me: the last four years, the million hours of reading, going to class, and studying, and the $20-odd thousand dollars I spent out of pocket all come down to next Friday at 4pm. I wish, instead, that th was when I was being sent back to the future.
I know that this is not the end-all, be-all, it when everyone who knows you is telling you that you have no worries, I wish those words came with a release valve, where I could instead pass along my worries to them. They have no idea what it felt like to take the test, nor what it felt like 1/2 way into the first MPT question when I realized I had no idea how to write a real summary judgment, since I never had before and had zero examples at which to look. It’s the biggest fallacy of law school. You can’t look at any other materials during the exam, but after you pass and get your license, it is almost certainly malpractice not to look at other materials be for preparing such a client document.
Now, and for the past four or five weeks, we have all had nothing to do except worry and ponder how we did. Will we have to tell family and friends that all the sacrifices they made along with us these last four years were for naught? Will the friends who lost loved ones regret the time they missed spending with them because law school took priority over everything else? Will those who loved and lost be forever scarred if this does not end well? Or will each of us be rejoicing next Friday evening, knowing that we kicked spoke bar a$$?
Whichever way it comes out for me, I will be okay. I, thankfully, have no student loans, not even for undergrad. I am still employed. I have prospects to do other things if necessary. I have a future with my Sweetie. I am loved.
And, no matter what, I have those movies whose themes have carried me through much darker times than failing a test.