Congratulations to our new lawyers. Surviving four grueling years of law school and hurdling the Bar exam are not only impressive but really outright amazing. I’m pretty sure our friends in hell are celebrating because new individuals have just been added to the roll of people who’d potentially go there when they die. This list, by the way, usually includes businessmen and politicians, especially our esteemed congressmen.

On a serious note though, becoming a lawyer is a life changing experience. Your relatives, to begin with, would put you on a pedestal. Even the cousin of the cousin of your actual cousin from his non-relative side would suddenly consider you a cousin too.

During reunions, they’d expect you to give the biggest donation because well, they think you already have a lot of money. This, of course, is not true. As you shall discover later, you won’t make a lot of money, let alone tons of them unless you get to work with a law firm that knows how to make money. You know, the kind that knows its way around. Sooner or later, you’d realize that while some lawyers are the Hermes of the legal profession, you’d most likely be the Secosana.

Aside from that, your uncle, just because you’re now an attorney, suddenly wouldn’t have any qualms about picking a fight with his neighbors just because he expects you to have his back. When somebody gets malunggay leaves from his backyard, he would immediately call you and ask you to send that person a demand letter. When he confronts him in the barangay, he’d say “you don’t know who you’re dealing with!” And when you’re not around, you’d find your mother giving legal advice, too. Somehow, your expertise rubs off on her.

For some reason, you’d find yourself receiving texts from friends you haven’t seen for so long. Out of the blue, your ex who has ghosted you since high school would send a private message in the middle of the night, asking you if you want financial freedom. Then, she’d sell you insurance, or a condominium unit. Or if that’s not possible, she’d ask you to be the godfather of her child instead.

On the positive flip side though, you would be respected everywhere and anywhere. Even if you’re dumb, people think you’re smart. So nobody messes with you. In the event you meet someone in some conference, event or meeting, he’d ask you to be a wedding sponsor, albeit you’re both about the same age and you don’t really know him.

Anyway, should you decide not to pursue litigation, there’s quite a number of available jobs for you. You can be a government officer, corporate lawyer or even a law professor. If you’re not that good, you can be a notary public instead. If that happens, you also become an entrepreneur at the same time. You do not just offer notary work. Your services also include processing of passport photos, ID lamination and wedding invites. You can also have a small carinderia if your booth is situated somewhere near any LTO office or the city hall.

You see, there’s quite a treasure trove of opportunities waiting for you. The good news is you don’t have to be good. A little dose of confidence and braggadocio is enough to get you going. If you’re lucky, you’d end up as a politician or a congressman who routinely appears in congressional inquiries, threatening the witnesses you’d cite them in contempt while pronouncing “as a matter of fact,” as “as a mater of puck.” You may get the “f” sound correctly once in a while, but your “fact” would rhyme with “Chuck” instead.