I was supposed to have 115 days, give or take a few, left in Utah. My days were numbered.
No more. This must be what people from the mountains experience when they come to southeast New Mexico -- just an interminable line between earth and sky that never gets any closer.
For the last few days I've had a nagging feeling that I made the wrong choice for my future. It started while reading a fascinating book about the Second Amendment and all the various constitutional law questions that tie into that. I love this sort of stuff. But the trigger was a mention of the Michigan Law Review and its high ranking in the legal world and what "Michigan Law" connotes.
I had a chance to be a part of that. I walked away. At the moment, I'm not sure why.
Today my column was on the death penalty (against, if anyone was wondering). While reading up on examples and running through points I wanted to make, I came across repeated mentions of the Innocence Project and all the good work those lawyers were doing. I'd sought out schools with Innocence Project externships so I could carry my weight in that battle. Instead I'm arguing with a bunch of neocons who quote scripture at me.
Tonight, on my one night off this week, I cleaned off my desk. That included a large file with acceptance letters, brochures and lists of housing options for Ann Arbor and Colonial Williamsburg. The sadness that accompanied that little bout of spring cleaning is the impetus behind this post.
I still love my job, but it is hard in ways I didn't expect. Some days I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle and at some point I should just lay down and die. (And there would be much rejoicing in the streets.) I have great coworkers, but I've said goodbye to a lot of great coworkers too. For a year it's been, well, easier to watch them go because I knew I'd be leaving too.
I realized that all the factors that went into my initial decision to attend law school -- leaving Utah, challenging myself intellectually, trying something new, making a difference in the world -- none of those desires have changed. Not going to law school didn't take any of those away. For the first time in a month, I don't feel freed by my choice, I feel trapped.
It will pass, this I know. My stress level will drop, and I think I'm going to skip town this weekend. The sun will come back out. I'm reffing soccer on Saturday and going running tomorrow. Somewhere along one of these roads I'll find my lost perspective.