Like a prisoner being led to Alcatraz. Or a cow to slaughter. A death march. The summer of 1995…the Bar Exam Summer, also known as the summer that never was. For many reasons good and bad, it remains on record as one of the strangest times in my life, and is best viewed in hindsight.

I have a vivid memory of driving to dinner the night before Day One of the exam, near my hotel, listening to Everclear: “Let’s just drive your car, we could drive all day, let’s just get the hell away from here”. I had chuckled at the appropriateness. Despite Everclear’s encouragement to the contrary, I took the exam and passed.

And again, last Friday, as I drove to a CLE conference full of lawyers…..eerily familiar, coincidentally listening to Everclear and feeling that same sense of dread. Do I really want to be part of this club again? Did I ever really want to be? What does it say about my chosen career if I feel like it crushes my spirit?

A cup of coffee, an old colleague, and slowly throughout the day I felt like a lawyer again. (Privity? I think I remember that word. And the Faragher/Ellerth standard sounds vaguely familiar.)

I drove home feeling inspired, and thankful that I had plowed through the dread to gain a little more insight. I still blared Everclear across the bridge, though.