How a cougar saved my legal career

So I had this dream last night that I was running alongside the Mississippi river in southern Minnesota, as I was chased by a cougar. Eventually, I ran the 100 or so miles home and locked myself in my car, instants before the cougar struck, shattering the window. My old cranky next door neighbor played the role of Boo Radley, dispatching the cougar with a shotgun, and became my savior, instead of the asshole old geezer that he really is.

So what does this mean? I think I'm running from alot of problems and responsibilities and my only refuge is no longer safe (both metaphorically and literally, since my car is in all likelihood toast). I have to rely on others to bail me out, but since I tend not to trust people in general, I have to rely on the unlikely dues ex machina solution to my problems. Either that, or I have to prepare for battle with a cougar.

Finals are catching up with me, finances are catching up with me, and life is catching up with me. The more I look at my current life, the more I wonder how I ended up leaving the old one. True, it was pretty much always my dream to go to law school, but frankly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. If I knew my life would become three years of poverty, stress, and constant efforts to prove my self-worth to my peers, I may very well have chosen to go somewhere else. Frankly, I'm not sure it's worth it. Sure, I'm going to finish law school, and barring disaster, I'll find a law job, but how do I know it's the right thing for me? For all I know, I'm going to end up as a mediocre lawyer, trapped in this profession by my student debts, and stuck with the same type of people I can't stand being around most of the time (referring to pretty much all law students). I'm sure the combination of minor crises I'm faced with now isn't anything compared to what my life will be like in a year or so. Do I really want that kind of stress, dissatisfaction, and proximity to incredibly gigantic douchebags?

I was watching Jerry Maguire for the third time this weekend (which is what I do when I'm stranded in Madison on Easter sans friends or family), and saw a commercial for a new T.V. series called "Saved." It's based on a character (played by Tom Everett Scott, of That thing you do) who works full time as a paramedic and feeds his mental anguish with compulsive gambling on the high stakes hold em' tables. I'm pretty sure the show will be terribly inaccurate and make me want to break out the electric sledgehammer gun on whoever produced it (although like many allegedly terrible T.V. shows, I'll probably watch it). However, that's not the point. I haven't thought about my time with the ambulance in a while, and that stupid commercial made me realize how much I missed it. The variety, the excitement, the mental satisfaction of doing something worthwhile, and the image of me looking badass with a reflective jacket and rubber gloves all came flooding back to me.

Although that job was stressful, I really, really loved it. At this point, I'm not sure why I ever left. I'm certain I could have made a career out of it, been very good, and been happy. Maybe the whole 'man in uniform' thing would have even worked on a girl someday. I spent most of the afternoon asking myself why I left. The answer is grounded in human nature: we all want to believe that we have potential, and it's logical to rise up and try to meet the challenge. I had decided a while back that my potential was in the legal profession. My decision was arbitrary and based primarily on John Grisham, but I think, ultimately correct. The current dilemma lies in the fact that I haven't exactly risen to the level of success I had envisioned myself reaching at this point in my career (e.g. straight A, genius astronaut, with super powers). Still, comparatively, I've done alright. It's ridiculous that society places so much pressure on us to measure our own self-worth against what others are doing. Who's famous, who's rich, who's respected, who makes partner at a big firm. Have I really fallen victim to this kind of thinking? Has the law school rat race really corrupted me to the point where money, prestige, and standing can define happiness? It's so easy to stray from the paths we've laid out for ourselves, and I'm no exception. It took a cougar, a commercial, and boatloads of convoluted analysis to arrive at this conclusion. If my idea of being happy turns out to be working for money and the privilege of looking down on others, then somebody kick my ass. Also, kick my ass if I don't get a dog.

As for the present moment, I'm just going to have to stay conscious of why I ended up at law school in the first place, and if it doesn't turn out to be my vision of life, I need to build up the willpower to walk away. It's not worth turning into an asshole to fit somebody else's vision of "happy." That being said, I'm going to turn to the task of becoming MY vision of a successful lawyer (with super powers).

Wow, that felt self-righteous.