Punch your TS Card

In the realm of future lawyers in London, TS means Trainee Solicitor and TC means Training Contract. Getting a TC to be a TS is like the golden ticket to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory. The differences: (1) the character of Willy Wonka is played by a plethora of workaholic senior partners who enjoy inflicting mind-numbing psychological torture through a wide variety of “tasks”, (2) instead of being a welcomed guest you are given the role of Oompa-Loompa, (3) instead of your visit lasting a day, it lasts two years, and last but certainly not least, (4) there is no chocolate.

At the end of the rainbow if you survive is the possibility of getting a permanent associate position, which, depending on how the two years went could be a good or bad thing. Normally, I view this as fantastic – an opportunity to excel (which obvi I am awesome at), learn, prove myself and get a job doing what I love (yadda yadda yadda unicorns, ponies and cotton candy).

That was definitely not my attitude this week (and it probably won’t be for the next few weeks/months/TBD). If I would have been at home to complain, my grandpa would have told me to go punch my TS card. TS, in his mind, stands for tough shit.

This week I have punched my TS card in both senses of the word. In the last 90 hours, I have billed 65 hours (and sent/received literally 647…648…649… emails and counting). You may think, well what the heyho has she been doing with all those other 25 hours!? Answer: sleep, shower, commute/taxi, hair/makeup/clothes (the quality of which has decreased exponentially over the course of the week). I was so distracted I forgot about my annual ladybits appointment until 15 minutes beforehand when my calendar reminded me! Sad truth: getting out of the office for an hour for that was the highlight of my day… new life low.

Friday night: 8pm – still in the office with no end in sight and the promise of working well into the weekend. In addition, my supervisor has taken my the liberty of denying my days off next week (taken purposefully during my mumsicle’s short visit to London to see me, her eldest and most favoritist blonde daughter). I am still trying to get a day off during her stay, might have to catch the plague on the tube… which may be difficult during next week’s tube strike!

In short:  I am punching the S out of my TS card.

Sidenote: a TS card is a real thing!

Just thought my grandpa was off his rocker, but no!
Just thought my grandpa was off his rocker, but no!


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