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Secret Diaries of a Perfect Law Student

18 Jun

Eureka! Internship At Last
#np I will survive Gloria Gaynor
 
June 7
*sigh* So, my dad got me an internship slot in this SAN’s firm. I feel inadequate. Maybe not. But Uncle Sunny is my Dad’s childhood friend, at least that’s what my Dad told me. Why am I so nervous?
 

June 8
Yay! First day at work. Thank God I didn’t make a fool of myself.
 
June 11
Tired. I can’t…. (slept off while writing in this diary. Didn’t even pull off my work clothes). Growing up is a set up, I swear.
 
June 12
Dear Davy Jones, Public holiday. I can’t believe I slept from like eleven yesterday night till like 12 noon today. My back hurts. Everything hurts. God! This will be a long weekend. My room looks like a refuse dump. So disorganised, need to put everything in order. I have not even had time for my brother… *sigh*
 
June 13
Slept in church. This internship was a bad idea. I brought work home, not done half of it. I think I am eliminating ‘research’ from my skills and areas of interest in my Cv. *yawning* So tired…
 
 
June 15
Dear Davy Jones, I just knew I wasn’t this lucky. One week without an embarrassing moment? Impossible. Everything has started going downhill…
 
I woke up late. I am on my way to work, and it is 8.15am. I am supposed to be at work by 8.00am. On getting to the office, 9.08am I realise that I left some of my research work at home. This means I have to start again. Oh God! I ought to be at court with a senior associate at nine. I have two outstanding court memos and I forgot my diary at home. Yeah, every lawyer at the firm is supposed to have a diary where they have their schedule inputted. Well, interns are not left out. This means, I actually have no idea what I am supposed to do today, which means trouble because I should be doing stuff, and I can’t recall exactly what my day looks like. So I go to the library, and start doing the research work all over again. It has to do with insurable interest and privity of contract. I mean I was half way through this already. At around eleven, the senior associate, Mr Lawal comes back and all hell is let loose. This guy, intern, from Babcock (a story for another day) comes to call me. My heart is running its own race. I had not even entered his office when I hear him growl say, ‘Where were you by nine this morning?’ ‘I was at the …’ He didn’t let me finish. ‘Have you heard of responsibility? No, obviously not. What is so difficult in being around before nine? I don’t care how you do it. I want those cases on insurable interest and I want them yesterday. I want today’s court memo. Take that piece of paper and get me those books on them right now.’ I am still standing in his office. He takes a deep breath, and before he can finish me, I run for my dear life.
 
The particular volume of the Sasegbon he requested for is not in the library. Trouble is brewing again. I drop the other books in his office, and I head back to my research work. No lunch break, no rests lots of errands to run. I finally finish around 8pm. I draw up the memo for a court session that I didn’t attend. Apparently, it was an out of court settlement; they just went to court to ask the court to dismiss the action, or something like that.
 
Mr Lawal calls me to his office. ‘Where is the Sasegbon?’ I swallow as I utter the statement I have been warned never to say, ‘I can’t find it’. I put a bored look on my face and hide my trembling hands behind my back. ‘You have an attitude problem, you are lazy, you are never punctual (I was late just this once), you are disorganised. Take a look at this books, are you not supposed to put a sticky note on the relevant pages? Weren’t you supposed to sit in at Korede’s meeting with the other lawyers in the receivership case? You can’t even work with your fellow interns. You walk around with chip on your shoulder. Everyone is complaining about you. You have to sit up. This is not child’s play. Let this be the last time you hear my voice. Eight o clock is eight o clock, young lady. You are my shadow for this week. When I cough, your chest should feel it, if my pen drops, you should pick it up before it touches the ground. Are we clear?’ I nod my head
 
I heave a sigh of relief as I leave his office. Leaving work at 9. 01pm. Will I survive?

 
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Posted by on June 18, 2015 in Diaries

 

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