It still smarts like it was four minutes ago

When I interviewed for my current job, the hiring partner asked me if I would be willing to take the Washington bar exam and emphasized to me that if I got the job, I would need to. This is because the majority of the firm's practice centers around litigation in the state of Washington. I think when we had this conversation six months ago, I must have said something idiotic, like "Sure, I'd love to take another bar exam!" After I got the job, the subject didn't come up again because new associates are generally expected to prove their worth with the firm for at least a year before the partners feel justified in footing the bill for an associate to take the Washington bar exam. For good reason, too. Evidently, with the lost productivity, wages, bar prep and other such fabulousness, the price tag for an associate to get licensed in Washington hovers around $40,000. Or so I was told. Today. When I was informed that a July 2011 bar exam might be in my future. Part of me is thinking it's pretty darn awesome that the partners are even considering having me take the bar at this point. It means they think I'm a decent enough lawyer to actually send out into the world; to handle the real courtroom aspects of litigation, rather than just the paperwork. And then there's the rest of me, the part that actually heard the words "bar exam." I've heard it said that time dulls even the most painful memories, but I found out first hand today that two years is not enough time to blunt the effect of that particular brand of trauma. I'm pretty sure there is not enough time in all of eternity to make me comfortable with the idea of sitting for another bar exam. Studying night and day for another bar exam. Turning into a horror show caricature of myself for another bar exam. As this conversation ensued in my office between me and one of the partners, he took a step back (presumably after seeing the unadulterated look of panic that surely swept over my face) and inadvertently bumped against the framed certificate that proclaims me a member of the Oregon State Bar. It nearly fell off the wall. I'm pretty sure that's a bad omen.