gift of you

I sent resume after resume on the resume paper you’re supposed to send it out on. The employment market had crashed to a smoldering pile of burnt resumes (mine, all of them, probably). My credentials from law school and a federal clerkship, a work-abroad fellowship, all did not amount to the 5-8 years experience required.  So when we moved back home, my husband and I, I was lucky enough to get a special appointment to a position that was part-time and unpaid. But it was experience with a kind and generous boss and collegial co-workers. I mean can you say you’re a co-worker if you’re a volunteer? I drove an hour each way to it. I threw up in the car, in the building, leaving court to do it, on the way home, and every other spot. Early on I was pregnant with my first. Everyone wanted to know how my “job” was going. I couldn’t face telling them I didn’t really have a job. I had a position. So I told them that. Hoping somehow by not owning the unfortunate circumstances of all beginning lawyers I would look like I still had it together. Look like I was still gifted and talented. I was still the me I had felt like in law school. Like I hadn’t failed. I eventually left the position to throw up more and more at home, and eventually, cradle a little babe in my healing lap and say: I didn’t get to pursue that dream but this one is nice. I had begun a small private practice and it…