New Kid on the Hallway

Never say never

So, anyone who reads here probably also either knows me on Facebook or follows me on Twitter or both, in which case, you know that earlier this week I got a job. (If this is news: hey, I got a job!) It's a permanent gig for after my current clerkship ends (which means that it starts about 9 months from now. Clearly I cannot avoid the academia-like practice of getting jobs months and months before they start), acquired through an elaborate drawn-out process partly described here. (It's Interview #1 job! the one I really really really wanted!) I'm very excited, LDH is excited, all is good.

But the funny thing is that for a long time, I would have said that I would never have taken this job. Partly that's because it's in a part of the country that gets really, really hot, where I said I'd never live. But partly that's because it involves criminal law, and I thought I didn't want to do criminal law. First, it seems like way too many people go to law school because they watched a lot of Law & Order and expect law to be dramatic moments in a courtroom, solving brutal (and yet entertaining) crimes, and I did not want to be that cliche. Second, the stakes in criminal law are REALLY high. I mean, sure, money (at stake in most civil litigation) is pretty important to most people, but in civil litigation no one goes to jail. Third, in case you hadn't noticed, our criminal justice system has a lot of problems. On the one hand, do I really want to help the government exercise its already considerable power to convict people who frequently have been dealt the crappiest of hands and have few legit life options? (see especially the WAR ON DRUGS!!!!) Shouldn't I be one of the people making sure the government can convict only if it can genuinely prove everything beyond a reasonable doubt, keeping the government honest? On the other hand, do I have the stomach to defend someone I know to be guilty? I saw someone write just recently that what they like about being a criminal defense lawyer is that it's very clear - they're not working to serve justice, they're working to serve their client. Can I do that, if I think those things conflict? Obviously that's not always the case. But what about when it is?

(To be clear: I think both prosecutors and defense attorneys perform incredibly important jobs. Without them the adversary system is impossible, etc. etc. They're just not easy jobs, neither of them.)

But you know, the thing is, since graduating and clerking, I've realizing: I find criminal cases way more interesting than civil cases. I mean, yes, the facts are often more dramatic in criminal cases than in civil (although a lot of times they're not: the fact of drug possession is not generally that exciting. The fact of illegal reentry is not generally that exciting. Violence is not, in and of itself, interesting). But it's more that I find criminal procedure really interesting, and the constitutional issues it implicates really interesting. (And civil procedure...not so much.) 

So, long story short, I'm pretty sure I've said at some point that I would never work in criminal law. And that I would never live in this part of the world. Yet, here I go. And I'm thrilled. (And also a little terrified. But as LDH said, that's all the more reason to take the job.)

* * * * *

I was actually lucky enough to get some interviews for positions in other areas of law that also interest me, but are totally different from the job I've taken. So there's just that little nagging part of me that thinks, What if you'd really prefer doing X instead?? The thing is, it's kind of like wanting to be a historian and being equally interested in colonial Quebec and modern South Africa - you can't really do both; ultimately, you have to pick something. But I didn't have offers anywhere else - at least, not yet; and wasn't going hear back before this job needed an answer (which was pretty much right away); and this isn't really an opportunity you pass up. It's really just as well, because it prevented me from agonizing over what would be the best choice. (Presuming I would have even been lucky enough to have to choose.) But setting out a new path often entails a little regret about all the other paths you can't take at the same time.

Exercise, my least favorite thing

When I moved out here, I joined a gym, to have access to spin classes (I haven't used the gym at all for any other purpose). I was in mourning for a while because the spin instructors weren't like my instructors back in my former city, and I still like those classes better, but have made my peace with the new place and found some instructors I like.* So I'm trying to go more regularly, and realized: I think I have to suck it up and start going to the 5:30 am classes. That's pretty painfully early, but I used to go to 6:15 am classes, and it was really great getting the workout over with first thing, and having my evenings free. Plus, going after work is totally fine, but more of a hassle, because I have to prepare a gym bag the night before, take it with me to work, and then change at the gym; and it kills most of my weekday errand-running time. If I leave work right on time, I have about 15 minutes to kill at the gym, which is slightly annoying; but if I run later than 15 minutes at work, I'll either miss class, or have to rush like a mad thing and race in last minute (which I hate). Conversely, if I go first thing in the morning, I can avoid the whole "change at the gym" hassle,** and should have time to get home, change, and shower before heading to work. We'll just have to see which is the greatest danger: that when the alarm goes off at god-awful-o'clock in the morning and it's dark and cold and I'm not really awake, I'll say "eff it" and go back to sleep;*** or that at the end of the day when it's dark and cold and I'm tired from work, I'll say "eff it" and just go home.

Are you a morning exerciser, or an evening, or something else? And if you're a morning exerciser, how do you make yourself actually do it?

*Had a new-to-me instructor Saturday morning, and she was really really good, overall. However, she kept talking about our workout in the context of what Thanksgiving foods it would let us eat - and while I get that it was the weekend before Thanksgiving and it's an appealing approach for a lot of people, I really really hate measuring a workout in terms of calories or food. It seems way too food-issues-triggery, I much prefer to think about it in terms of building strength, power, endurance (or flexibility/balance, depending on activity).

**I know some people don't like changing at the gym because they don't like changing in front of other people. I don't care about that; I'm just lazy, and hate hauling stuff around and making sure I have everything.

***It didn't hurt that at my old gym, you had to sign up in advance to be sure to get a bike, and if you didn't cancel more than 24 hours in advanced, you got charged for the class. So as long as I signed up in advance, it was too late to cancel the morning of; here, I can't sign up for class until 30 minutes before anyway, so no foul if I don't show up.

Why the hell I'm up, dressed, and in the car at 6:30 am on a Sunday

Well, I was in the car. I'm back home now, writing this.

So, as I've mentioned, LDH and I are living apart for a year while I'm working this gig. However, he's one state north of me, and it is driveable in a day (not ideal for a weekend because I'd spend more time in the car than with him, but you can do it in a day, easy).

I was recently contacted by the friend of a law school friend, who lives in the northern part of my state. A very rural, very isolated part of my state, where there aren't a whole lot of resources. Over this summer, the friend had essentially adopted a cat - the beastie had wandered up to his house, emaciated and showing signs of abuse, and the friend fed him, nursed him back to health, and got him to trust people again. He turned out to be a delightfully friendly, affectionate creature. (The picture I've seen was of a very handsome long-ish haired gray fellow - that kind of Russian Blue, solid gray.) However, the friend's wife is deathly allergic to cats, so the cat couldn't come in the house. And it gets really cold up in the northern part of my state (in fact, it's currently 21 degrees F where the friend lives, and feels like 7F). The friend, being a kind soul, wanted the cat to have a proper home and not freeze in the winter. So he asked my law school friend if she knew of anyone who might want to take the cat, and she suggested me. 

Well. For a whole lot of boring reasons, we didn't feel comfortable taking the kitty. But after pondering options, I told him I could drive up there and get the cat, and take him up to the shelter in LDH's city where I used to volunteer. I'm sure the shelters here are good (in fact, I know they are, for reasons I'll get to in a second), but I just really trust the former-home-city shelter. It's huge (in a good way - lots of resources), it treats the animals wonderfully, and it will keep them as long as it takes to get them adopted, so I felt good about suggesting this.  Plus I sort of thought if I couched it as just detouring from the route up to see LDH, it wouldn't feel too much like charity to my friend's friend, if that makes any sense.

The friend thought this sounded like a great idea, and I said, How about this weekend? (i.e. now.) Because it's a long weekend, so killing a bunch of time driving north and back wouldn't be so bad. The sort of ironic thing is that I couldn't make the drive yesterday (Saturday) because I had an oriention for volunteering at *this* city's humane society. (Which is why I now know they have a very nice facility.) Volunteers have to go through quite a bit of training, including a required orientation, and the orientation only happens every couple of months. This was the first one since I'd moved here, and if I missed it, I'd have to wait till January, so I wanted to attend. But that meant I wouldn't be able to leave till today (Sunday), and spend most of today driving up and most of tomorrow (Monday) driving back, which would be kinda tiring and wouldn't be that much time with LDH. But I figured, well, I'd have had one proper "weekend" day (Saturday), so driving this weekend wouldn't be any worse than doing it next weekend (and three days after next weekend I'm going home to spend Thanksgiving with LDH anyway, so driving up then seemed a little silly).

Then, of course, we had a winter storm forecast to come through the area last night, so I started to freak out about the weather, and driving 9 hours by myself (6 with a cat) through a lot of mountain roads during/after a snowfall. I spent much of yesterday dithering about the weather and whether I should do the drive, blah blah blah. However, the friend said nothing had really fallen where they were, and I realized I wouldn't get further north until later in the day when things would have probably melted, it wasn't really supposed to snow much more today, etc. etc., so I decided I'd probably go, but would get up really early to check the weather. (I'd have to leave pretty early to be sure to get to the shelter up north before it closed.)

Up at 5:10 am this morning. Various dire warnings still in place (winter weather advisory!!!!!), but no real forecast for snow and the roads seemed reasonable. I thought, if I don't go today, and by 9:30 am everything everywhere has melted, I'm going to feel really silly; worse comes to worst, I can turn around and abort the mission. So I e-mailed the friend that I was on my way, hopped in the shower, threw some stuff in a bag, tossed some Luna Bars in my purse, and headed out, stopping at Starbucks first for breakfast, then at the gas station to fill up my tank. 

Where I realized my phone was ringing. And it was the friend. And I answered, thinking perhaps he had some weather or road advice or something, not realizing he'd already texted and left a voicemail.

He told me not to come. Kitty got hit by a car last night and killed.

It's remarkable how badly you can feel about the death of an animal you've never met before. 

(The poor friend was very upset. And I can't help but feel superstitiously terrible that this happened the morning that I was heading up there to take the creature. I keep thinking that if I hadn't gone to the orientation yesterday, I could have driven yesterday and the cat wouldn't have been on the roads last night/this morning. Which is kind of nonsensical, because if I hadn't had that orientation scheduled, I'd have already bought plane tickets to fly up to see LDH for the long weekend. Since the friend lives three hours north of here, it's not like I'd have driven up there to get the cat, driven back here, and then taken the cat on the airplane with me or something - I'd have chosen to drive another weekend. But it still feels karmically sinister. There was part of me that was kind of dreading the drive and regretting how much of my free time it would take up - and I know it doesn't work that way, but it feels like that part of me had something to do with this happening.)

So. That's why I was up, dressed, and in my car at 6:30 this morning. And am up, still dressed, in my apartment, finishing writing this at 7:45 this morning. So that's what being up this early on a weekend looks like. I can live without it.