What others think of as a lawyer: wearing a suit and leather shoes, charging by the hour, and easily committing multi-million lawsuits.
The real me:
They serve as cattle and horses for the parties, as doormats for the judge, and as free labor for the director.
The boss said: "Young people have to endure hardship." Then he changed to a Mercedes-Benz.
The client said cutely: "I believe in the law." Then asked if he could have sex for free.
Work overtime until three in the morning.
The lawsuit was won and the client ran away.
He lost the case and was called a "waste lawyer".
When I look at my pay stub at the end of the month, my eyes darken.
This is me, a low-level lawyer who lives worse than a dog in a first-tier big city.
Every day I deal with divorce, debt collection, and workers' compensation, and even my breath smells like poverty.
I also want to quit.
But the bank card balance said: If you continue to endure, it will be difficult to make money and eat shit.
Until I discovered that even the shit I deserved was swallowed by the director.
Then I won't be polite.
