Will I get into law school?
That’s the million dollar question. I thought people respected others who are well-educated, well-versed, well-rounded, well-everything. But the thing is, your past clings to you with every breathing moment when you apply for admissions to an academic program: what were your SAT scores? What’s the internship you completed–you know the one, the one that mom’s friend’s dad’s brother helped you to get that had to do with typing up something on a computer to show that you have office skills? Yeah, that one.
So I’m trying to polish up my personal statement. That thing that you have to write that tells EVERYTHING about you in like 50 words or less and if it’s not good, you’re doomed, yet you’re also told that if your test scores and GPA suck, well then, your personal statement can suck too since they’ll probably never read it!
With this application process there’s stress, failure-attacks, screaming, slamming of doors, many tears, and around the corner: relief. Relief that the process is almost over. I take the LSAT again (God help me) next week, I need to write out a couple optional items pleaing for admission into schools that will cause me to go bankrupt, and finish that lovely personal statement which doesn’t seem very personal. All so that I can receive a letter of welcome. Welcome, ______! You DON’T suck, after all.
So please pray for me. I really need it. I’m no academic, I’m just a regular person who wants to learn something. But unfortunately, my past is what it is. And it’s for everyone to see just as soon as I give them the key to unleash it all: scores, papers, and any other baggage I have. I hope they find something half-entertaining so that the process isn’t a waste for everyone.