Academic Stockholm Syndrome, or Why I Miss Law School

Law school is not easy. In fact, the first yr makes Bush Era Gitmo look like a tea party to most. But I miss it. A lot. My former life-captor is now the thing I would give anything to go back to. Whenever I think of a beloved 3L friend, I have the urge to grab their faces and shake their cheeks Billy Madison-style and urge them, "Stay here!" Why?

1. It gave me a sense of purpose. The past 5 years of my life have all been law-school oriented. The first was me trying to establish myself professionally, and getting my two left LSAT feet reacquainted with my own personal standardized test Achilles heel. The second was working/conducting the massive I-need-to-go-to-the-law-school-of-my-dreams campaign. The third was one L ((shudder)). Fourth/fifth year consisted of 2 & 3L. In the past 5 years, I've always been working towards something. Either getting to law school, or getting through law school. I always planned on graduating, taking (and hopefully passing) the bar exam and working at a private law firm. Now, that plan is on hold, possibly for a long time. As a result, I feel basically untethered and extremely unmotivated, which is something I am not used to.

2. Classes took up time. Sure, I whined big-time about that 830am PR class. Did I go to all of them? Of course not (especially during the month of February). But, as someone who spends most days watching both iterations of old-school 90210 on SoapNet, it was something substantive to do. And, hearing a professor drone about the pitfalls of being Enron's attorney sounds amazing right now compared to listening to Brandon & Brenda complain about awaiting the results of the dreaded SATs (hello, I'm waiting for bar results in the midst of the worst legal economy on record). Sure, gang, your lives are over if you don't hit that coveted 1190 to get you into fictional CU. Seriously, class gave me something to do and I miss it.

3. Reputation. It is far more attractive to tell anyone (friends, relatives, randos at bars you are hitting on) that you are a law student as opposed to the pathetic, "Well, I graduated in May ... and ... well I *have* a job offer. It was--well, I was *supposed* to start in January, but well, they deferred me again until next fall ... no, not *this* fall, *next* fall. Yeah, so I've been working for free. And no, I don't know what I'm doing this winter. Or where I'm living."

4. Set Social Plans. In school, there was always something to do. There were endless events with a scant nexus to the law. Wine & cheese functions with professors, fall bar-b-qs, accepted student receptions, journal mixers (yes, seriously) bar reviews, and the ever wonderful gratitutous kegs on Thursdays. Now my life consists of the gym, my DVR, and the occasional half-hearted attempt to dominate the KY locals at Bar Trivia.

5. More Incentive to Not Let Myself Go. I went to law school with 1,100 or so type-A, status conscious future attorneys. Having received my undergrad degree at an institution 90210 most recently referred to by Kelly Taylor as "a perfect place to major in pre-wed," I rocked solid biz casual to class on a regular basis (read: sundresses and pearls). As such, there was no "student attire" consistently rocked by yours truly. Hoodies were for dire illnesses. Warm-ups were for the gym. And jeans were a rare occasion. I took pride in my appearance and made staunch efforts to dress well. As such, I received many a compliment from law school females and many an inappropriate, overshare overture from socially awkward law school males throughout the experience. These days? I am a hot tranny train wreck mess. If I don't work, I look like LiLo circa 2007 in the early hours of any given Sunday. I wear sweats, some North Face zip up and my Fed Ex golf baseball cap. My skin and hair look as if someone has eaten it. As for working out, it is sporadic at best. Eating sweet potato fries for most lunches and the easy access to Halloween oreos in these parts is wreaking havoc on my girlish figure. I rock my hideous glasses so that I no longer talk, it is just "noise coming out of an ugly scientist." Bring back the days of school, where I had motivation to look somewhat presentable. Without law school Halloween parties and Feb Club, it doesn't give a girl much to look her best for.

6. My law school town. It was so baller. All the comforts of a city, yet the safety of a college town. Affordable drink deals and fine dining at my fingertips. More vineyards than you could shake a stick at. A year ago, I'd be at a complimentary wine tasting at my favorite wine shop. I went every Friday. It was amazing. Knowledgeable wine professionals, 3-4 whites, 3-4 reds, 2 beers and my friend E made for an experience that was the ultimate free pre-game. On Saturdays, I'd walk to the local Farmer's Market and gorge myself on fresh, hot, homemade donuts. This place was heaven on earth.

7. Loans were not real. They were like Monopoly money. When you are in school, loans are some silly thing that will confront you eventually. Like a passive-aggressive, OCD environmentally-conscious roommate. And hell, I was going to make $160K/yr, so I could pay them back so easily! Now, they are like a cross between a rabid junkyard dog and the sword of Damocles, hovering perilously over my bank account, threatening to consume my measly stipend before Uncle Sam can even get his two cents in.

8. TV was an activity when I was in school. It was not a way of life.

9. I knew where I was going when I drove places. Thank god for Marge, my trust GPS.

In short, Stockholm Syndrome is real, at least, with respect to law school. To quote a famous line, "you don't know what you've got til it's gone."

I h8 El Real World.