I Fought The Law

The gig I have been working at for four months ended on Friday. It was the perfect gig for many reasons. You could work as much or as little as you wanted. You could make your own hours; you could work nights instead of days or take off weekdays in favor of weekends or work all seven days if you needed the cash. Additionally, because we contract attorneys had our own floor at the firm it got rowdy sometimes, often at night when we had every innapropriate work conversation from who we'd sleep with for a million dollars to politics and religion and sex and marriage and children. Nothing was out of bounds. Most importantly, the minimal supervision enabled me ample time to pursue my real passions, online shopping and my fledgling writing career.

So why did I have absolutely no emotion when I got the call every temp dreads on Saturday morning. You'd think I.'d be in a panic about money, about having nothing lined up, about not having paid my December rent, health insurance or student loan -- the three biggies, let alone the $345(?) I owe C, the $145 I owe BE and the $160(?) I owe A. And then I have to eat. My savings is completely depleted. I had saved almost $3000, a minor miracle (let's be serious, a major miracle) but between my vacation, the $1000 I spent on my birthday bonanza and all of the out-of-pocket medical expenses, I am broke as a joke.

But I didn't care when I got that call. I felt right. It seemed timely. I hadn't been itching to leave and would have been fine staying because it was so comfortable but I was fine going too. It could be my newfound ability to welcome bad news and unfortunate circumstances with open arms and hold it close to me like a long lost loved one. Or it may be this buoyant feeling that I have sometimes that feels like a butterfly's wings spreading and flying in my heart uplifting me from this earth to the bigger and better things I really want to be doing.

I had this feeling after I quit Legal Aid. Like something divine was going to take place and swoop me out of my mundane life. I wanted to write back then too. I started writing but but I always had one foot in the safety zone of the law. I interviewed half-heartedly while dreaming of a better more fulfilling life and really believing I would have it. Only I didn't know how or what or when it was going to manifest itself. I just knew it was. If I had had an idea of how to make it happen or what it really was I was seeking or meant to be doing, I would have done it but it is hard to fight when you're not completely sure what to fight for and only know what you don't want. Being young, and brainwashed and insecure and pressured doesn't help matters. So, I allowed Illinois to be that thing. He was sure about me and that was good enough. It was alluring and seductive to have someone tell me they I was great and they were sure about me when I wasn't sure about myself. It made life easier for me not to rack my brain when maybe he was the divine change that I had been anticipating. So he swept me completely off my feet and saved me from discovering that it wasn't my time yet. He both obscured my dreams and clarified them. He took me away from myself and enabled me to fuse back together and find myself in a place of awareness, confidence and determination that I never would have had but for him.

I allowed him to do what I allowed every full time legal job to do. They wanted me and I didn..'t know if I wanted them or not but panic and fear is a bitch and what if I don't get an opportunity like this again and everyone is telling me I should take this so I probably should. The end result is that I broke two two-year committments with full time jobs I had that I took more for safety and security than love and passion. The only committment I made without reservation was my committment to work at the criminal defense firm. I never would have been motivated to follow that dream and achieve that goal if I hadn't been losing Illinois and trying to carve out a new existence for myself. And as a criminal defense lawyer, I was finally able to do all of the writing that I had dreamed about and was finally stimulated by my work. Then there was all of the stuff I hadn't anticipated that made the job completely intolerable, like how I was treated. That became a vicious cycle because I internalized it and believed it and was in a constant state of panic because I was the scapegoat whenever anything went wrong and when things went well, I received no credit despite the fact that I had found the seminal case and written the winning motion.

So what's my point. My point is that maybe it is finally time. Maybe it's like when you have nothing; no safety net left, no distraction of a boyfriend / boy that adores you, no employer coveting you with benefits and paid vacation; you actually have to put yourself out there and find your secret reserve tank filled with what makes you happiest, your secret dream tank and use that to drive your car.

With this all in mind, I am slowly coming out of the closet as a writer. I am starting to say out loud that I want to phase out of the law. I am starting give people my blog site and implore then to read it and give me criticism and suggestion. I am starting to make my dream come true, even if it never gets beyond this blog, at least I will know I took steps in the direction I have always been scared to go. I am starting to fight for myself. I am starting to fight for what I want instead of consistently getting sucked in to what I don't want just because it appears safe and smart and appears to want me (another illusion because if any of these boys or employers really knew me, they wouldn't want me; they'd see how wrong I am for the job). I want myself now and don't need the validation anymore because I finally understand that my dreams and goals are important and aren't going to just happen on their own while I am working at some job I hate. I also know that there is no easy way out and allowing myself to get sucked into a relationship or a permanent job for the wrong reasons once again would be a mistake. I have no temptation right now to test my newfound focus. There is no cute brown eyed boy swooning after me, waiting in the wings to sweep me off my feet (although when I got my tarot cards read at that open bar thing the other night I was told that love is all around me, I am just not aware of it) and no high-paying mindless job eagerly recruiting me. So until then, I will travel along using my dream tank to fuel me on my journey.

So the answer to why I had no emotion when I left the last gig is because I finally have some faith in myself. And maybe I've finally learned that no one can make this dream come true but me. There is no other answer, no other way; and I know that nothing else will make me happy; nothing else will make me free. Unfortunately, I am not one of those people who just needs a 9-5 and a hot meal to be happy. Or a movie every Friday night. I wish I was that easy. Instead I must create the divine out of the mundane.