met a man who had no feet
There’s an old saying that goes like this: “I once complained that I had no shoes, but then I met a man who had no feet.”
My classmates are doing a lot of complaining about how much studying they’re doing for the bar exam. And yes, I myself occasionally indulge in the art of complaining on this blog. But maybe I have no right; I spent the night hanging out with my friend Samir, a recent med school graduate who’s about to begin his residency…working 80-hour weeks. Plus, he’s going into plastic surgery, which means he won’t get a paycheck until he’s like 34 or something.