<p>This is how I foresee my life as a biglaw lawyer:</p>
<p>A beautiful day in June. I wake up in the morning, and as I prepare for work, I envision the course of my day, dreading the stresses and annoyances that I will surely have to endure during the day. </p>
<p>As I dress for work, I think about how, like I did yesterday, I will have to deal with a demanding and unappreciative boss. I'll present a brief to him today, and he'll scoff at my work, demanding that I re-write the brief by tomorrow or, otherwise, he will say, he will re-write it himself. So I'll work late into the night, on this Friday in June, in order to re-do this assignment. Once it's done, I'll swiftly return to my apartment, but by this time it's midnight and, having no energy, I'll fall asleep moments later on the couch, not far from where I stand right now.</p>
<p>So, by the time I leave for work in the morning, I'm downtrodden by my thoughts of what awaits me, and somewhat ashamed of how I wallow in self-pity. I try to remind myself of how my suffering pails in comparison to that of African children who are starving, crack-whores who roam around in my city, and families who lost their son to the Iraq war. I realize, for a moment, how blessed I am and that, surely, I should not stress over work when, in the bigger picture, it's rather quite trivial. </p>
<p>Such enlightened thinking vanishes, though, as I walk into work and sit down at my desk. The reality of my job overtakes me. Stress begins to run through my veins, fueling me to work diligently on the assignments at hand. Stress, stress, stress. Grind, grind, grind. </p>
<p>What a pathetic life I have. A slave of the corporate world.. a little minion whose sanity is sacrificed for the the greater good of the firm.. a well-educated person whose aptitude for handling the theoretical is made of little use..</p>
<p>I can afford a nice car though, and my apartment is a two-bedroom with a washer and a dryer. And, when my mom goes to weddings, she feels proud when she meets others and tells them that her son is a lawyer, which makes me feel good. When I go to a bar, girls are attracted to me when I tell them of my profession. And when I go to McDonald's, I can take solace in the fact that I'm a high-roller who makes so much more than this poor sap who is serving me.</p>