The Lawyer

William L. Prosser has aptly written:

Your lawyer in practice spends a considerable part of his life
doing distasteful things for disagreeable people who must be satisfied,
against an impossible time limit and with hourly interruptions,
from other disagreeable people who want to derail the train; and for
his blood, sweat, and tears he receives in the end a few unkind
words to the effect that it might have been done better, and a protest
at the size of his fee. There is no lawyer who has not at some
time in his life rebelled inwardly against all this, and wished that
God had assigned him to the peaceful existence of a digger of ditches
or a master plumber. Your professor is most often a young man who
rebelled early, and while in that state of rebellion was unexpectedly
offered a means of escape with a little more pay. We are all of us
fugitives from that battlefield, and there is in us a weakness of character,
a kind of cowardice, which those of us who are least honest
with ourselves prefer to regard as a fine distaste for the wretched
bickerings of a sordid commercial life.
Prosser, William L., Lighthouse No Good, 1 J. Legal Educ. 257 (1948)

This sums up feelings which I often experience. It is difficult to return to the battlefield day after day. By the way, I really enjoy digging ditches.