The restlessness that I seem to be going through right now is more than I can handle. I moved last weekend and now that I’m out of the stressful environment that was living with three other women, I don’t even know what to do with myself. I could finish unpacking. I could finally take off the chipped and flaking nail polish. I could start shaving random parts of my body. Again. Instead, I've decided to apply to a job at a neighborhood bar.
If I had my act together, I’d probably start studying for the Oregon State Bar. Actually, if my life was in order, I would have already passed that damned thing. I just wish that I could get as pumped about spending the next five years of my life in Oregon… If I could do that then I would have no problem finding the motivation to take the bar. I wouldn’t say that I enjoy sitting through a two-day test, but the only real motivation that I can muster revolves around not having to tell the people who love and support me that I’ve failed yet again. How is it that the smart girl – the one who went to law school and graduated in the top 50 percent of her class – can’t seem to figure out the next step in her life?
I just spent the past 30 minutes trolling through Craig’s List to see what kind of jobs are out there for Legal Assistants and Paralegals. I figured that if I could make the move into a legal environment in Oregon then maybe I could see myself developing and building a career here. The problem is that despite my legal education and vast work experience in all things not legal, I either don’t have the five plus years of experience that some positions require or I’d have to take a substantial pay cut to make the move from my current receptionist gig to that of a junior paralegal or discovery clerk.
Huh. Maybe I just figured out why working at a bar seems like such a wonderfully fabulous idea – not only would it be a great way to meet other people in the neighborhood, but it’d also provide me with a convenient place to drink while I figure out if I’m going through my thrisis early or I’m just going through a crisis about turning thirty.
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