The signs are all around us. You’ve seen them: listless bodies walking blankly around town at dusk, a preponderance of frighteningly pale and sickly young people lurking about your neighborhood bars and restaurants, and an ever increasing number of confused individuals emerging from the shadows, devoid of people skills and all-around cleanliness. No, this is not a casting call for the next George Romero zombie flick, nor is it at all related to the ubiquitous and thoroughly tired vampire fad. My friends, what we’re dealing with is a massive outbreak of PLWD: Post LSAT Withdrawal Disorder.
It might be hard to believe at first, but in my professional opinion, we are in the midst of a medical outbreak the likes of which have never been seen, bigger than swine flu, bird flu, or even the gin and tonic flu which renders me bedridden every Sunday morning. With more people than ever taking the LSAT, there are more and more victims of PLWD. We have all just gone through a majorly traumatic experience, so now the question looms: what next?
As I’m sure you’ve noticed, the world seems a lot colder with no LSAT in your life. I know what you’re thinking. “Am I alone? Isn’t there anyone out there to talk to about these strange feelings? How can I possibly go on living with this LSAT sized hole in my heart? Just how much Axe body spray and hand sanitizer did it take to film The Jersey Shore?”
You will hopefully find out soon that your social and hygienic sacrifices have certainly paid off, because of course you can always buy new friends and plenty of deodorant when you get your JD and that cushy +140K job. In the meantime, let’s discuss several resources available to fill your time as you begin to re-introduce yourself into the wild.
1. Reality Television
Do you need an outlet to point out logical fallacies? Do you find yourself with a shortage of ludicrous ethnic names placed in obscure situations? Are you, in fact, smarter than a fifth grader? If you answered yes to any of these questions, consult your DVR immediately. To wean you out of the many hours of weekly entertainment provided by your Blueprint LSAT class, we don’t want to cut out the fun cold turkey. I recommend 3-4 hours of reality television a week to help you begin to acclimate to all the ridiculous things happening in the world that aren’t written up by the folks in Newtown, PA. Start with a classic: Survivor. The game show that challenges contestants to survive for a million dollar prize, in a place where native people already live. It’s important to resist the urge to create your own logic games while watching, but be sure to tell anyone around you that you could easily solve the whole season in just two scenarios if given the right rules. Follow up with some Jersey Shore, at the very least to feel better about yourself for not being from Jersey. Apologies to any Jersey natives reading this, but let’s be real, there are way too many polysyllabic words in this post to keep you from getting this far. As bad as the LSAT may have been, at least all that answer choice bubbling ought to have given you plenty of foundation for your “fist pump” muscles.
Possible future Blueprint reality shows:
For The Love of Matt Riley
So You Think You Can Diagram?
The Biggest Loser: Reasons Why You Make Trent Teti Miserable
2. Ninja Warrior
After countless hours of careful adherence to the ancient wisdom of your Blueprint LSAT Sensei, it seems like a logical step to transition into the ninja business for real. After the mental acrobatics you’ve been pulling off these last few months, how hard could this really be? Disclaimer: despite the BP mantra of ‘karate in the dojo vs. karate in the street’ that by now is probably permanently engrained in your heads, please remember we didn’t actually teach you any valuable self-defense maneuvers. Any potential altercations that become violent should be handled in a logical manner: a swift kick in the nuts promptly followed by sprinting away and/or crying in the fetal position.
3. Get a Job
I know. Gross, right? Totally yucksville. However, those law school applications certainly won’t pay for themselves. Before you go rushing back into working for the parents or slinging burgers at your local Sonic, it’s important to take your time and keep your options open. I personally don’t have a clue exactly what a ‘roustabout’ is, but it evidently ranks in between a construction worker and a garbage collector. Sign me up. If all else fails, we can all slap-fight it out for this job. Law schools love writing experience, right?
4. Get back in the dating game
If things have gone the way they’re supposed to, it’s probably been a while since you’ve gotten any action. Rushing directly into the arms of your roommate/best friend/ex is not typically a great call, but if you ever needed a pressure-free exhibition game, now’s the time. After smoothing out a few of your kinks, be prepared to re-conquer the dating scene that has recently passed you by. However, certain new regulations now apply. 1) Be sure not to treat every date like an extended Flaw question. Your potential dude or dudette is bound to say things that would make a good LSAT taker cringe, but hold your tongue for now. Soon enough you can show them how smart you are when you light your cigars with your freshly earned law school application fee waivers. 2) Don’t feel like you need to diagram everything you hear. Chances are your date will truly not give a shit to know that Lady Gaga is actually saying ‘if it’s fun, then it’s rough.’ Despite the added complications, taking the LSAT should have instilled in you a very valuable lesson: foreplay is in fact very much like a logic game; the more work done up front, the easier it is to finish.
5. Change of career?
Besides collecting brightly colored hoodies and skinny jeans, Jay took the December 2009 LSAT and is an instructor for Blueprint LSAT Preparation. Originally posted December 17, 2009.