Studying for the Bar: 17 Truths

I have some friends taking the July Bar exam, and if they are anything like me, they have already started Googling, “Will I pass the Bar exam?” every half hour. I was in the same boat a year ago, and despite my certainty that I, in fact, would NOT pass the Bar, I did, and it was all fine. But for those who are worried, I offer you these words of consolation and advice:

1. The rash that has just shown up on your face and arms? Normal. Don’t count on it going away until August.

2. Your friends who say they are studying 16 hours a day are way above the curve.

3. Normal people study 8 – 12 hours a day. Some less.

4. There will be people who will insist on telling you that they’re “sure it will be fine.” It’s okay to punch them right in the kidneys.

5. Likewise with the fuckwads who took the Bar themselves and claim they barely studied. They are liars AND have poor memories, and frankly, I wouldn’t trust their legal representation.

6. EVERYTHING will seem more interesting than studying. Grouting your tub. Cleaning out the refrigerator. Parenting your children. Watching Larry King reruns. It is all a trap, designed to keep you away from your outlines. Those children will be fine. Let them raise themselves for a while. It’ll toughen them up.

7. You will develop an insane, obsessive-compulsive habit. For me, it was showering 3 to 4 times a day and wearing shorty shorts. For you it might be counting, drumming, walking a certain pattern, eating a certain kind of food, or anything else in a long list of crazy. Just go with it. It will go away after the Bar. Okay, maybe it won’t, but there’s medicine for that.

8. MBEs will make you cry and doubt your self-worth. You WILL do horribly on some or all of your practice sets. Just keep plugging away.

9. An out-of-control Bar Studies instructor will send you increasingly long, manic emails as the time for the Bar draws nearer. Those emails will have titles like, “Courage,” and “Dedication.” Craft interesting cocktails based on those email titles, and drink them.

10. Somebody who took the Bar recently will tell you a story about how, a week before the Bar, they got chicken pox, had a leg traumatically amputated, had a baby, got food poisoning, or was questioned by the government in a dark cell for 72 hours based on a horrible case of mistaken identity, but they STILL TOTALLY ROCKED THE BAR. Cross them off of your Christmas card list. This is not the time for those stories.

11. As the time draws nearer, you will stop Googling, “Will I pass the Bar exam?” and start Googling, “I failed the Bar exam.” Totally normal.

12. Memorize this phrase: “Now is NOT the time to test me, because I WILL freak out on you.” Use it wherever and whenever you want. Seriously. That’s pretty much the way I answered the phone every time my son called me.

13. You will receive offers of kindness. Take them. Somebody wants to go to the grocery store for you? Let them. Make you dinner? Yes. Walk your dog? You bet. Now is the time to be a selfish bastard, not a hero. Make the most of it. You don’t get extra points for being a martyr.

14. You will wonder how many pencils/pens/highlighters/watches, etc. to take into the bar. In fact, you will agonize over it and consult with your friends on the correct number. Answer: all of them. ALL OF THEM. Start packing them now.

15. Close to the Bar, you will create a complicated algorithm that explains who flunks the bar. I think it goes something like this: If 80% of all Bar-takers pass, of the 20% who fail, 5% are hopelessly stupid and can’t even spell their own name right. 5% never wanted to be a lawyer, and self-sabotaged by not studying. 5% fail to manage their time appropriately. 2% have a computer malfunction. 2% freak out or get sick. 1% just make a couple of mistakes and miss it by a few points. You will then try to figure out if you fit into any of those percentages.

16. You WILL consider quitting. You will pray for Ebola or SARS. Sadly, you will not get them.

17. You’ll be okay. No matter what, you really will. I promise.

Thank You In Advance

I keep telling the people I know that I am going to be crazy when I’m studying for the bar exam, and that, if they know what’s good for them, they will just stay away from me. People generally think I’m kidding, but I assure you, I am warning you for your own good. Because I care. My son’s no dummy; on my strong recommendation, he got a summer job three hours from here. But for those of you who are not fortunate enough to be far away from me during the months of May, June, and July, here are a few tips:


1. Don’t ever say to me, “Oh, you’re going to do great.” In fact, don’t say that to anyone who is studying for the bar. No one is guaranteed to do great. It’s a tough test. People study for it for months like it is their job. Oh, and if you’ve already passed the bar and say something like, “Meh, it’s no big deal,” I will never speak to you again. Sorry. I’m crazy.

2. Do not confuse me. About anything. I can only follow simple commands right now. Please do not give me instructions for something that’s going to happen three weeks from now if this certain event happens but not this event, and you really just want me to be aware or keep my eyes open, or whatever. Too much unnecessary information.

3. Whatever you do, do not give me candy. We all have addictions, and candy is my crack. When I get on a roll, I am literally eating candy from the minute I wake up until ten seconds before I brush my teeth at night. Nobody wants to see a strung out candy junkie. Alternately, if you have given me candy, expect me to growl at you until you go away, devour it all, and then call you, demanding more. I’m not even lying.

4. Don’t tell me stories about people you know who were stupid all during law school and passed the bar without studying. Those people are faking you out. I am guessing that a fair share of stupid people pass the bar, but nobody passes without studying. And trust me, I have grave concerns about being smart enough to pass WITH studying.

5. Further, don’t say, “Oh, if you flunk it, you can always take it again.” I am not taking this thing again.

6. Don’t ask me to pick you up from the airport. I will pick you up from the airport every day in August, but please do not call in any favors in May, June, or July. Seriously. Don’t ask me to watch your dog, come to your kid’s recital, participate in a quick online survey, read an article in the newspaper or respond to your text messages. I can’t be trusted. Look at me - I eat candy like crack. Do you really want me on the road?

7. Conversely, do not ever say, “Hmmm….I thought you were supposed to be studying” if you see me posting on Facebook, at the gym, watching baseball, or drinking at a bar. My study schedule is just like the plan in Oceans 11 – everything is timed to the minute. You can be damned sure that, if I am at a bar, it is because the schedule tells me to go there.

8. Do not tell me to relax. It is not going to happen. Not now, not after the bar, not ever.

9. Also, when I, in a very unrelaxed way, tell you that I’m probably going to flunk the bar, please do not say, “Oh, you’ll be fine.” I might have a stroke if you do. Instead, just say, “Wow, it sounds like you’re really worried,” and maybe pat me on the shoulder comfortingly or something.

10. Do not ask me about my future. My future is to take the bar exam. And then go drinking with my friend Emily. And then watch the Olympics.

11. Please do not decide that this is the time to confront me about that thing that you’ve always hated about me, tell me that I have a fatal disease, need extensive dental work, or that my real father was the washing-machine repair guy. Kindly wait until August to drop the bomb. Thank you.