"You Just Keep Me Hanging On."

"Set me free, why don't cha babe
Get out my life, why don't cha babe
'Cause you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin' on
You don't really need me
But you keep me hangin' on

Why do you keep a coming around
Playing with my heart?
Why don't you get out of my life
And let me make a new start?
Let me get over you
The way you've gotten over me

Set me free, why don't cha babe
Let me be, why don't cha babe
'Cause you don't really love me
You just keep me hangin' on
Now you don't really want me
You just keep me hangin' on."

This song epitomizes my life as of late, both professionally and personally. I sincerely apologize to my neighbors for having to hear it so frequently. But it might be a welcome change from the obnox trifecta of Mariah Carey's "Obsessed," Casacada's "Evacuate the Dancefloor," and Miley's melodic masterpiece, "Party in the U.S.A," that they are treated to quite regularly.

Professionally:

This Diana Ross classic (I prefer the 80s remake, however, way more empowering) epitomizes the anthem of the deferred incoming associate at your standard BigLaw firm, whose formerly bottomless coffers have been crippled by the "recent economic downturn." Gone are the days of absurd recruitment SWAG: the bonsai trees, the logo-embossed sweatshirt blankets, & most egregiously, the custom video nano iPods. Instead, budget lunches and more no-offers than you can shake a stick at were the common themes of this summer. Add frightening publicized "reductions in force" & the ever elusive "stealth layoffs," and the result is a graduating law class of 2009 more terrified than Kevin MacAllister in his family's basement.

The issue with the deferrals stems from last spring. Those critical months were when law firms decided to push back their incoming classes. Typically, new attorneys start in the fall after graduation. However, firms decided they couldn't afford it, and began to devise deferral programs to cope with this expense. By buying off incoming baby lawyers at the fraction of their expected fall salaries, firms attempted to put a band-aid on the financial bullet wound of a Class of '09. Some firms offered full year stipends, pushing classes to Fall 2010, offered already-arranged public service work and some even gave law students the option of picking their professional poisions (i.e., get pay to play for a yr or to take an earlier start date, most in winter 2010).

Other firms simply picked a date out of a hat. They said, here's a stipend (or salary advance from the Charles Dickensian entities) and said, we'll see you in January/February/March of 2010. Good luck on the Bar exam!

So we studied for the Bar exam. And hopefully, we passed said Bar exams (some know, some still wait--it's awesome). And we waited. Waited for word from the firms -- not about when we start, but when and who is not starting on their expected date. Because by the end of August, firms were already doing it: continuing to string along incoming associates.

I know lots of people who have since been double-deferred (told winter 2010, then have been pushed to fall 2010 -- next fall!), some have been deferred indefinitely, and others, unfortunately, have had offers straight-up rescinded.

I got my call in September. It was horrid. Mostly because I am pretty much professionally trapped at this point. Sure, I had an offer to go work at another firm -- like an idiot, I turned that down last fall to go to the firm that doesn't seem to need me until over a full year after I received my J.D. On top of it, I have been working pro bono since the summer to keep my skills sharp. So I will have no money going into 2010 other than the stipend they are paying me to mitigate the fact that half my class will start in January. But not me. Apparently, my work experience or commitment to professional development mattered little in their analysis.

That aside, their timing could not have been more devastating. Unlike peers who have known since the spring that their careers were on ice until Fall 2010 (either by choice or by the decision of an omnipotent hiring partner), my news came a little too late. Too late to apply for clerkships, LLM programs, for government honors programs, for fellowships, internships, or unpaid things specially designed for deferred associates. It rocked my world, especially where (again) half of my class starts in Jan, the others start in September, and very little has been explained to us why this occurred. Additionally, the deferred kids are getting pressured to be farmed into unpaid opportunities.

I understand from a lot of law grads that (1) I am "lucky to have a job;" (2) "Lucky to have a stipend;" (3) and, from people (non-lawyers) who don't know jack, "getting paid to do nothing," emerges from their ignorant mouths.

1. I do not have a job. I do not work there, nor do I have an office or email account. I am not on their website. I have an offer. An offer that, at best, was illusory last spring and has now devolved into a moving target. I have no idea if I'll get another call terminating the relationship entirely. In short, I am kept hanging on, in case they do decide they need my legal skills. The ultimate professional string along. If I get texts at 2am from them in March saying, "We really want u. Maybe u can come over and do some Doc Review?" I would not be shocked.

2. I am lucky to have a stipend opportunity. However, where I committed to work somewhere, relied to my detriment, and turned down countless viable job offers and am pretty much unable to find paying work, I think it is the least firms can do for burning recent law grads. Especially where now, I have missed so many deadlines and opportunities to do meaningful things if this actually does turn out to be a "year off."

3. I don't get paid to do nothing. I have been working for free since June. And, when I studied for the Bar exam and worked, I worked 7 days a week, 10 hrs per day, at minimum. I took the Bar, moved that weekend, and worked 12 hr days the first week. I still work. When I'm not working, I look for jobs. So, if you are unhappy at your job, I understand -- but don't tell me I am getting money for doing nothing.

Don't get me wrong -- to not have a job, job offer, or to have the offer rescinded would be awful and challenging. But it is hard to not feel strung along at this point, and there is nothing worse that being the girl who gets strung along, then cut off (see below for guy-related post; otherwise, I plan on posting about Sorority Wars soon, since it was outstanding).

Personally:

Right before the firm dumped me to next fall (literally 5 days prior), I got dumped by my boyfriend of 8 months. Via phone. In his defense, he is in Africa, and he is in Africa until next summer -- but it was an awful, awful two and a half hour breakup call. He spared no emotional expense, pulled no psychological punches. Told me about 10 different things why he couldn't continue to be my boyfriend...and who knows what he really meant. He was big on how didn't still care about me or miss me. Which felt awesome, trust me. He didn't want to hurt me or mislead me any longer (so was I strung along the whole time?) He has lost it over there. Well, technically, he started losing in in March, when it hit home that he had to go over there (it was his choice before he met me!).

My issue is not that he dumped me. Getting dumped is hard and I do care about him, but he is extremely selfish, emotionally distant and was not all that supportive of me at times when we dated. Moreover, some of my most honest, trusted friends really did not like him. They told me both before and after we dated. And I understand their concerns. They also did not like how he treated me at the end.

The breakup was basically incited by his inability to say that he misses me. He is in AFRICA. By himself, lives in a trailer, and has few friends. Maybe I am a narcissist, but I do not understand how you can not tell someone you miss them. I miss everyone. All my Cville friends scattered after law school, my DC buddies (wherever they now live), my college friends and high school friend A (btw, love your blog). Neither myself, friends, nor family has ever had a problem expressing how they miss important people in their lives! But, as my good friend from law school CN says, "Some people are just broken."

The reason I'm including this is because this broken dude from the island of military misfit toys still emails me. Somewhat frequently. And, not shockingly, it almost always its 90% about him and the mundane things he does. Occasionally, he'll reference something that makes him think of me -- an inside joke or something.

I have been dating other people. I am trying to deal with things. I have no idea why he sends these brief, random updates on his life. I don't even know how or what to respond to such emails. I don't get how you don't care or miss me, but think it's cool to send things like this:

"So, I spotted a Honda Element on the streets of Djibouti City
yesterday. I think it's the only one in the country.

I've also been approved to go to a legal conference in Naples this
week. It's only a couple days, but hopefully I can sneak out and see
some of Italy..."

Seriously? Why do you send these emails to me? Why do you consistently email me on a weekend evening your time? Are you bored? Do you need a pen pal? You are strange and absurd. What does this give me, other than contempt for you and your botched efforts to communicate with me. I don't think I am capable of sending an email that one-sided.

Also, it's incredibly sweet of you to bring up Italy. Because we were supposed to go there this winter -- your idea, remember? After all, I put a Bar trip on hold to go off with you eventually...because I'm an idiot and get strung along like a cat in a Satan-inhabited yarn factory.

Again, my point is, between a firm with the management style of state and federal FEMA officials during Hurricane Katrina and an ex that makes Jon Gosselin look emotionally available, warm and fuzzy, I am tired of being strung along for whatever purpose.

And so I blast Kim Wilde. And I try to gain some base level of judgment for future decisions.