She came in to my room late at night - dinner with friends. I had just worked out and ate left over chicken soup I made last Sunday.
She looks at me with sad and serious eyes and says, "I was thinking, and intuitively, I don't think you really want to go to Law School..and it's not that you aren't working on your applications are working hard on your personal statement, it's just that you always sound more excited when you talk about doing something else even if it's doing something like shaving sheep hair off sheep on a small and remote island off the coast of Cape Cod."
I blinked, looked up from my glass of scotch, a long day of filing form 4s, proofreading stockholder notices and rewriting opinions for managing partners and said, "well, of course not, but it's what I'm doing now."
She blinks (the type that is slow and hard and almost makes you pee in your pants), "What is the point then?"
I don't know, I think. I think that I should become a lawyer because it's important. It gives you authority, etc...."It's Important"
She doesn't believe it. She looks like she wants to sock me in the face and say, Liar. I know that look.
She winces (pain), looks up and says, "well, we don't always start out where we want to, but it takes courage to get to where we do. I have friends who aren't exactly doing what they want to do, but they do the other so they may get to do it."
Confused, "What?"
"Betty! Miguel's girlfriend works for a publishing company, but she wants to write children's books. She's not doing exactly what she wants but, she's working in the indusry! (Pause) (Long Pause) and I don't care that you are working on the second largest bank offering in history....You are not doing what you want!"
"What do I want to do?"
"Write...right?"
"Yeah, but it's complicated...And I think it's important what I'm doing now..."
"Well, I found some thing on Monster today..writing jobs. You write a little bit, and maybe a few uninteresting columns and build a portfolio."
"But it's probably a salary cut."
"Yeah, but it's what you want to do. You don't want to but down the road 15 years from now at the age of 40 wondering what you could have done.....(long pause) 15 years? wow. That's it."
Girl gets all introspective and quiet.
I think and blink my eyes, quietly thinking about where I'm coming from and say, " My Dad works 12 hours a day at a small upholstery shop in the next town over from my house making a few bucks more then me an hour. When he gets sick, that's it. If he gets hurt, that's it. When he breaks down, I'm it. My Mom works the night shift at a medical supply company. She wraps needles and plastic tubes in plastic and puts them in boxes for far less then I do sitting at a desk proof reading bullshit for some attorny who makes 4 times what I do."
"Well, why do you think they came all the way from Vietnam for?...so you can be miserable?"
I didn't know what to say except that I wanted to do this...become an attorney, work corporate and make money. I thought that if I became a lawyer and made lots of money, my parents would be proud. My writing would always be there for me...like a friend that I could abuse and throw away...and when i needed her most, she would come back and love me with her arms. But it's not exactly like that. Writing takes practice and determintion...and a bit of talent. What do I got, anyway?
Conclusion? I don't know what to do.
