Volume 10, Issue 2
My first Monday at Commercial & Acumen had proven an extraordinary success. Not only had I completed my first task with distinction (finding three grammatical errors in Major Procurement Contract), I was able to leave work at 6.15pm (early enough to appear well-rounded, yet late enough to intimidate the other clerks).
The commute home was nothing short of jubilant, although my throat was feeling sore, and my back ached slightly. But surely that would pass.
By the time I was in bed I had started to shake. My temperature rose and fell rapidly. I began to panic. I CANNOT get sick… I only have three weeks… Every day is essential! Cold sweat filled my bed.
By the morning I was feverish. My mind raced. I couldn’t think incisively, impactfully, pragmatically. I was useless. I couldn’t work. I called in sick.
At lunch-time I received a message from Only Bearable Clerk, “Want to grab lunch?”, it read. I responded, “I’m really sick, but hope to be back soon”. I tried to mute the panic gripping my entire being. “Don’t appear weak”, I whispered to myself. Five minutes later I got a reply, “No grad job for you. Just kidding haha. Get better soon”. Fuck you, Only Bearable Clerk. Fuck you.
As the fever got worse and two days of sick-leave came and went, my mind wandered. It wandered to what awaited me upon my return. I saw my supervisor. I saw her disapproving stare. I saw myself being lead down the 26th floor corridor, naked before The Practice Team. I heard a bell, and a chorus of voices as I walked…
* shame … shame … shame …*
… and on it went.
After four days I returned to work. “Don’t worry, you can’t choose when you get sick”, clerk after clerk comforted me, their delight cascading out of them despite their best efforts to appear sincere.
However, all things considered, the next week went well. My spirit began to return. I was impactful. I was incisive. I was pragmatic. I was back in the game.
The Friday of the penultimate week presented a new challenge. It was results day at University. I yearned to check. But it was dangerous. Another slip and my number would surely be up. At 5.30pm I decided to risk it. It would only take a minute, after all.
I navigated to the Exams and Results page and selected the Juris Doctor. The screen went white. In the reflection of my computer monitor I noticed a silhouette behind me. My stomach dropped. I swiveled in my chair, apprehensively. To my horror, there stood Silent Partner. “Ah, results day. How I miss it”, he sighed. “Well then, let’s see how you went”.
I turned back to the monitor and scanned the page. My stomach dropped to new lows. My first result read “Ethics – 73 (H2B)”. “A 73? An H2B? That must be a mistake”, I thought… “I NEVER get H2Bs”.
To my surprise Silent Partner was smiling at me. “Your lowest mark. I take it?”, he asked. “Yes”, I replied sheepishly. “And in ethics too”, he smirked. He paused, and as he turned, he said, “I think you will fit in well here”.
Relief washed over me. Pride, even.
But somewhere, in the deepest recesses of my conscience, I thought that, just for a moment, I heard something. A bell. Some voices maybe. I felt exposed. But it was gone, merely a whisper on a gust of wind.
* shame … shame … shame …*
Have a funny clerkship story but still want a grad job? Send it to mlsdeminimis@gmail and we’ll publish it anonymously.
The rest of this week's issue:
More articles like this