The story won’t begin at the beginning because that is just too far away. When it comes down to it the beginning could be pegged at five years old when I entered kindergarten at Temple Zion in Miami Florida. Because that is the technical start of the educational process which culminated in a Juris Doctorate granted twenty years later by the Tulane University College of Law. In those twenty years I essentially prepared for the law degree and was groomed to be a professional. But lets start at the moment that it all began, when the girl became a lawyer. When the fun begins and the laughs never end.
Lets start at the arm pit rash of the summer of 2004. Nothing says professional and grooming like an itchy, oozey, arm pit rash. It began in June, a few short weeks after graduation, as a small irritation, an itch here and there. I was knee high in bar exam preparations and I poured over Bar Bri notes, attending lectures by day and outlining diligently every afternoon. I sweated over it all. Literally. It was Florida in the summer and the expression hot as balls means nothing until you have lived here. Sweat and heat surround your body forming a plastic casing that makes it difficult to breathe and impossible to avoid. So I thought little of the constant itching annoyance under there. I was in a generally irritated state at that point knowing I was devoting an entire summer to studying the laws of Florida. Until one day I looked down at my body and saw a thousand tiny red dots littering the underside of my arm, onto my chest and down my side. Both sides. If you wonder how this went unnoticed then you have never taken the bar exam. It is really really simple. When you live alone and shower only on even numbered days it is actually quite easy. I just never looked. I washed, rinsed, repeated without thinking of much else than criminal procedures and torts.
At the dermatologist she examined my red dots and determined that I was allergic to deodorant. After 25 years I developed an allergy to the single most important beauty item I use. At a time when I cannot experiment or manipulate, I needed things to remain even keel. I could not mess with my routine and I certainly could not mess around with an anti-perspirent. So in response she recommended the most brilliant solution ever - stop wearing deodorant. I politely nodded my head and said I understood and listened to her bogus suggestions about why this happens to people. All the while thinking that this was a load of crap and it was impossible that this women made it through medical school. Does she not get stressed? Does she not understand that it is 117 degrees outside? So it was very very clearly evident that this was not going to happen. A girl cannot sit in a crowded room with 100 strangers on a daily nervous basis studying to take an exam 20 years in the making in the middle of June in Florida and NOT WEAR DEODORANT. But I also could not continue to itch and scratch at my pits during these classes.
So I asked around and tried to find solutions to my problem. Only to find out that of the three total people I surveyed all three were also allergic to deodorant. Hello people? Why don’t I know these things? I did not know this was a condition let alone a common one. Why does nobody share this? It is not embarrassing - not like sweating through your t-shirts and smelling like a dead over ripe animal in a Bar Review course kind of embarrasing. So why were people not talking about this? I needed help so I listened to them. Based on their suggestions I began to use hypo-allergenic deodorant and baby powder when I left the house. I limited that to the few hours I had to be in class. As it did not really do the trick and it certainly did nothing to cure the red itchy heat oozing from my arms. I spent the remaining time at home studying with no shirt on, a cool washcloth under each pit, and a fan blowing on me to ease the heat sensation emanating from my chest area. Anyone wanna guess why I was single.
Well my friends that test taking strategy seemed to serve me well. Because I passed. And the rash went away. And I am not allergic to deodorant. I had hives. Simple as that. Stress induced hives. Hello Dr. Smarty Pants. Ever think of that? Which is why I am starting here. It was the induction into being a lawyer, as everyone has to take the Bar, spend months studying and stressing over it. But also as an introduction to how being a lawyer can make your body react in a physically sick and inappropriate way. Causing red dots, sweat, a stench, an itch, and an inability to go out in public or react appropriately around people. Being a lawyer would prove to be all these things and a few more token bonus goodies too. This was only the beginning of the story.
The problem is not the black box I feel that enraptures my skull causing a dull ache and a hate for all things I have to do and people around me. To me, the problem is that this is apparently an unacceptable state to live in. People don't accept it and I don't get shit done. I sit in my office and stare at the screen pretending to review documents for a latent defect that resulted in water intrusion. There is a high possibility that this sensation that has crept over my skull could be caused by those exact words. Or the people who wrote those words. And the only words I can think are who the fuck cares? When it comes down to it every bit of housing and construction is fucked up. In Florida it is humid and it rains. Can't we accept that as a premise instead of litigation as the premise and go from there as a working assumption. Because you assume then that I am out of work as a result. But that would likely be a good scenario to this. If I could just live on what I had and needed. Enough to cover the mortgage, bills and loans with money for groceries. Real groceries not the eating out kind I splurge on now. Like fresh fruit and lentils. I could be good with lentils and likely a tad skinnier too. If I just decided that was how I was going to live. Resolved to do so. I think I wouldn't want more because the more is when I get into trouble. If I keep it simple and never advance and never move on from those wants then I won't be tied to the job and the income, I won't need the more. I won't continuously have more either so I won't continue to want more. There is no moving up - it is level and peaceful and I have to think blissful. Can I do it? If it means I can walk away maybe I can. We as a people can do anything, I just know it. That is how we as a people got into a mess of insurance litigation over stucco. Maybe I can hiatus. The word sounds foreign but not luxurious because it is a street name that runs through the country. But still foreign. Because, can people do things like that? Just take breaks? I can work. I cannot work here doing this. But I can work. Like at the Gap just to earn that money I need. The minimums. Would that resolve this tension and desire to simultaneously scream my head off until my throat is dry and lie on the floor in a t-shirt drinking wine from a plastic cup? Something destructive passed me by today including from the list a fried chicken sandwich at Wendys and a pack of smokes from Walgreens. Instead when I got home I opted for a soup spoon full of chocolate frosting opened from the pantry. A healthy alternative to my choices but not a true solution to the overlying problem. The problem that lays over my head like a thick black box of mush not too dissimilar from the Betty Crocker container now missing a chunk from the middle.
We got all dolled up and attended a Hillsborough County Bar Association dinner. In a room with 600 lawyers we dined on hotel food and listened to Fred Thompson. He is hysterical and quite fortunate having experiences from Watergate to Hollywood to Washington DC including a current stint on Law and Order, where you probably know him best. I just don't know about him as President and that has some things to do with my registered status. But we had a great time pretending to be important. The 
things is amongst all the speeches about how wonderful and prideful it is to be an attorney it made me not want to me one. I was coming off a pretty crappy day which did not help my sentiment regarding the law. And all the reasons cited for why the law is great and fulfilling fell on my deaf ears. What was described was not something that I feel that I actually do or that I am helping to contribute to.
My legal world is not filled with altruism and doing good and I don't often feel a sense of pride. Not in the way that was described anyway. I feel it is just a job. A 
new office sure, but still just a job. With that made me really wonder, and not for the first time, if this is the right fit for the long haul. Whether I should continue down this path. Because really in only a few short years I will have hit the seven year mark. Which is not reserved for just itches but also partner status. That is tempting because there is a pride there, but that too may also be short lived. However, the money and lifestyle become increasingly difficult to walk away from. Even now I would say it would be a challenge. But of course it is not impossible and my sanity and happiness certainly are not worth any amount of high income. It is just something that I have to keep in mind.
Really I also know that I have to have perspective. It has only been three years and in that time I should not have been expected to find my place. It takes time, work and a dose of good fortune to get to those kind of right fit special places. That is true of not just being a lawyer but any career choice I chose to pursue. It is not going to happen overnight and it is not going to be easy as pie. Really that is true about anything in life including friendships and relationships - they take time to build, some effort and patience and finding the right fit for you. We all look for love and spend so much time dating and investing in that relationship. This really is not that different. You need to take the time and effort to find a career that fits for you in the same way a mate would. It does not happen over night and it is not automatic that the first one is going to be right. Same deal for a job, right? So really at this point I need to just be aware of that phenomenon and keep it in perspective. Recognizing that my time will come but also knowing that I need to work at it and work towards what I want. I cannot grow easily frustrated, rather I need to keep resetting goals and deciding what I want and need to be doing.
Fred Thompson was a lawyer trained at Vanderbilt who happened to fall into a political campaign which led him to Watergate. They wrote a movie about the event and he got to play himself, which led to a film and TV career. Along the way he stayed in the law game and ran into politics as well. For him it was about timing, hard work and that dose of good fortune. I am fairly certain when he set out 35 years ago he had none of this in mind and could not have generated it if asked. That is really the beauty of it.
It is that kind of perspective I need to hold onto. That and for him it has been over 30 years of building a life and career. My three by comparison pale. Not that I want his life, but just that there are other paths out
there and that life can often lead you down them without a lot of
forethought or planning. I am lucky to have been given the chance to make these decisions and really to whi
ne and complain about the whole thing. I also have to understand where I have come from, looking back to where I started three years ago and where I am now - knowing where I can go from here. I feel steps ahead of where I started and I can totally see new and different potential in the role I have not. Add into that what I really want to do, at least what I think that is, and I believe I should be just fine. It is not all peachy keen and wonderful, but I hope that some day it can be close to that. That and the picture below well that was my dessert, so how bad could it all really be? At least I had some chocolaty goodness to keep me warm and comforted. For the time 
being that is going to be enough.
Labels: J.O.B., Perspective
One day not too long ago I had the most fantastic day. In the law firm world that is a lot to say for a Wednesday or any day really. Because on any given day law firm life can be as enjoyable as brushing your teeth with a chain saw. And in general, in my world that too is a lot to say for a Wednesday. But I was given an opportunity that made me realize a number of things and made me feel pretty freaking good. They say that revenge is the best medicine. Well they may not technically say that but I certainly do think it. And I was able to execute on that well. Let me tell you it was terrific and fabulous. It was not sneaky and it was not underhanded, it was business, as I was able to recruit away a secretary from my old firm and bring her here. She rocked and that was all I needed to convince others here that she would work.
Personally though it was with great satisfaction to know that she was swooped away from a partner and a firm that never appreciated her, or me for that matter. How awesome. How freaking wonderfully awesome. Now she is here and I get to enjoy her goodness, knowing her talents, but also knowing they lost her to me.
More so, it spoke volumes about where I am now. I had a day that showed me that I am a lawyer. SURPRISE! I know that the framed degree, the card, and the esquire seem to indicate that - but I was never allowed to be one. Not until yesterday. And NEVER at my old firm. I was given the power to make those decisions. To help out. My opinion was heard and listened to. It was valued and not criticized. I interviewed, discussed salary, and was made a part of a team. I was placed in a position, and told the same, that this was what was expected of me now and in the future, as a lawyer. This was a mother fucking light bulb to me. It was true and it was meant to be real. Not only that, but it made me realize that I had not been given these opportunities in the past. I was a worker and a disposable one at that. I was never more than a billable number. So no matter what shit will stink, at least I have that. At least I now know that I am lawyer and can be treated like one. Something that, in reality, I have been working toward for a long time. Which felt pretty freaking fantastic.
Exiting the elevator this morning I felt a small skip in my step. This was a big break. Not just in my legal world, but it was what finally made me feel like I fit in here. The new kid on the block syndrome was over and I was a part of this team. It has been a month and I was still in the I-Hate-This-So-Very-Much phase. But I cautioned myself as I walked down the hall, be careful. Knowing what law firms are like. Even this one. Yesterday's joy will most certainly be tomorrow's sorrow. That is how it works. It's the Facts of Life 101. You can't have too much and you certainly cannot have it for too long. Along with how to negotiate and take depositions, that is a lesson I have learned over the past three years. With that predication in mind fast forward eight hours. I had been asked to research and think. Referenced for my knowledge base on a specialized area of law that I knew from my previous job. I took time out from my assigned tasks to help out. I answered questions, did research, scoured the Internet and thought of questions. Only to be left out. I sat there staring at a closed door, realizing that the meeting started without me. I was not invited. Insert giant bubble burst. All the excitement from yesterday combined with all the work I had just done was quickly undone. My supposed self esteem was now in the garbage next to the three diet coke cans. My prediction was sad but true. I no longer felt lawyerly or even a part of a team.
But really this is what law firm life is like. It is days filled with bone crushing ideas like this. I knew it and I also knew to caution myself. A sad but true testament. It is teeny tiny baby steps in this world and a gigantic ton of perspective and strength. That is something you HAVE to learn, even if you don't pick up other litigation skills. So while I may now be a lawyer and I may get to act like a lawyer, there ain't nothing I can do about working in a law firm, it can suck any which way you slice it. That is unless you have some super special excellent staff people who kick butt and are as sweet as saccharine and who you secretly and covertly stole away from the dark side. Knowing that helps just a little bit. Revenge really does feel fantastically wonderful.
Labels: J.O.B.
I hate that expression learning curve. What the fuck is a learning curve? Does it mean there is a curve that I have to get over to learn? Do I need to learn how to curve? What curve is it? Is it a hump? Is is a good thing? A bad thing? I don't fucking understand it. And I can't stand how it is thrown in my face daily. I want to take the curve and boomerang it back into their mouth. How is that for a curve? Did you learn anything from it?
I feel new and peanut butter and jelly-ish. I feel sticky and uncomfortable. I don't know where I belong. It is too early to cry at least with the door open. Some would say it is not worth crying about. But the unease and the gas forming an anxiety bulge in my stomach are worth the tears. I fixed the ergonomics problem. Maybe it was feng shui. I think it was both. I felt cramped, ugly, and uncomfortable. It helped make me feel less claustrophobic and less paranoid. Who can sit with their back to the door? How very Sopranos of me. It just irks me. What I can't fix is not knowing. What I am doing. If they like me. When I will eff up (because I will, we all do at some point). And why I have to eat alone. Like the new kid in kindergarten style, I sit alone and make miserable decisions about where to eat, what to eat, and if I will do it alone. Again. No that's not kindergarten. There everyone was your friend. You sat in circles and shared and your only worry was who got the red sleeping mat. This is not kindergarten, this is hating high school. Those uncomfortable awkward times when you didn't know a person and felt alienated. Which I didn't, so I guess ten years later I get initiated. It is never to late.
Which is funny because getting here felt like rush. Smiles and fake noises meant to impress. "I love your shoes" now translates that they like me. But 90 bucks at Charles David does not count, it says nothing about me. And I was told it is superficial and a sign of someone who does not want to get to know you, the real you, the one beyond you and the pointy black patent pumps. The magic is, that person is now here, working down the hall. Reminding me of these ideas and where I came from. Amazing when life does that to you. A little circle of a reminder of god's way of showing you that life works itself out, that it has a meaning and purpose. It helps to know that everything will be ironed out. That there is a place and time. Mine will come and I will feel more secure in it. More at home and welcomed. Like high school really was for me. That, with time, I will see things from her eyes and the way they were back then when I was less stuck. Maybe this is the learning curve. Probably not though and to be honest I don't really care. Fuck the learning curve.
Labels: Breathing, J.O.B., Last Life
I wrote thinking about those girls, from my past and wondered where they were. Then I got picked up over here , and a ton of comments . I spent time thinking about it and I realized I faced a modern day mean girl dilemma; are the associates in the offices next to mine just grown versions of the mean girls? I don't think so, but in a law cliche, the verdict is still out. The Nina's and Lisa's of the world were evil. They manipulated and plotted so that they looked good and made you feel bad. Real bad. Laughing about it the entire time. They pranked called and some how made you always feel like a sucker. I was left holding a phone and feeling like an ass, when in reality they were.
They were smart in that they understood what they were doing and how to execute. But I don't know if they were savvy. I think what differentiates them from aggressive people is the savvy. And I think what you find at a law firm, for the most part, is savvy. People doing what they can to get ahead, at what ever cost. It is not meant to hurt you, unless you are in the way. But it is not a direct attack. It is simply because you stand on their path to greatness. You can spot them as they never look at you, just through you in an attempt to get by you and to figure out how to do it best. And they just don't care. Their time, their ideas, and their shit is not only more important than yours but somehow they have made it not stink. They just push on and up. With no intent other than to make them number one. Don't be fooled they don't mean well though. They are still mean people. I guess that is the difference between an intent to harm you and just plain indifference. Again, I'll use the law, but it is the difference between first and second degree murder. How I remember that second degree murder is a depraved indifference to the value of human life, is totally beyond me. I can't even remember Magoo's phone number.
But the aggressive people out there have a goal and go after it. They may work hard or they may work smart. The mean girls just worked mean. They may have morphed into those aggressive types, but I think of them to be different creatures. Evil and ugly, but different. Which may mean my answer is no, they are not those kinds of mean girls.
Then I think. Does it freaking matter? They are all ill perceived, at least to me. And to most, as you all have so wonderfully pointed out. Making excellent calls about unhappy people and wrinkles. So who the hell cares what kind of mean they are? They are all people I can't handle and the reason just does not matter. I try to avoid acting like or associating with either breed. Of course the problem is they may be my associates. But it does not matter how you brand it, they are ick people. Unhappy with some extent of their life or just built with the aggressive, competitive, get-ahead gene. Either way they are not meant to be someone I associate with, at least not beyond the coffee room or Holiday party. I long ago moved away from Nina and Lisa. I was in a sorority and found the clump of people who had no tolerance for the crap. The other 40 some odd girls could have their Greek letters. There is no room for it. Really there is no need for it.
I went to law school and I litigate, so they are everywhere, especially in these corridors. But the bottom line is I cannot STAND people like that. Get over yourself and get a grip on being mean or meaning to be. Live a little and laugh a lot. Enjoy. That is, enjoy your time as a happy fun loving person. Breathe. You will see how much energy was wasted on the negative and the hateful. Being mean may be fun, but it is a crack cocaine high. One that lasts for a brief moment, is fabricated and highly dangerous. Not the natural high from the wind in our hair. Go out and enjoy that life and stop taking the time to get ahead or to hurt another. Enjoy your time enjoying.
So if they want to continue with it. Go ahead. I want no part in it. I am out enjoying my life, laughing at you, not with you, and kicking ass but not in the way that it hurts anyone, just in the way that it will make my glutes look killer.
I wish I could describe what some days are like at a law firm. Somethings are hard to nail down and others are protected by privileges. I just don't know if the same is true at other offices or other professions. No, I think that at other firms it is probably worse. Much worse on a more consistent basis. Higher volume, more stress, bigger dollars and less competence. Scary about that competence thing, but true. I am not sure if the non-lawyers out there get this kind of special treatment. I just don't know, if this is unique to our world. This, this is not the horror stories you hear about or see portrayed on T.V. With bosses screaming their heads off or associates burning the midnight oil hoped up on Dexatrim. See here, this is a comedy. Well at least to an outside observer, I would imagine them laughing. Doubled over, holding their sides laughing, "Ha, ha look at the girl in black patent heels running around like a crazy woman." Then they stop laughing when they see that she is sitting in the corner, rocking back and forth, and eating her hair. But only for a minute, because that too is pretty funny. She pays a lot to have that hair highlighted and cut and for those wonderful shampoos that she adores. So her eating her hair, well, that is pretty entertaining.
These kind of days are marked by scenarios like this:
"I said ASAP" (yes it is a cliche, but it gets said.)
"Well I took ASAP, to mean when it was possible for me to get it done"
"But that was three hours ago?!?!"
"Yes and now it is possible"
Really who can argue with logic like that? Certainly not me. As I am the one who is left on the wrong end of that rationale and with a document that was supposed to have been e-mailed at 9 a.m.
This one too was a winner, look and listen:
"Did you say David was going to run the document to the court?"
"Yes but he is gone"
"Oh can someone else do it?"
"No. He already left for the courthouse"
"That is super-interesting. Because I am holding the document in my hand"
I am still not sure where David is or if he is having a wonderfully amusing afternoon at the Judge's office. I know I am not amused. Again, though, someone somewhere is laughing. At least I hope so. Otherwise, this Monday was a waste of my damn time.
Labels: J.O.B.
In a bizarre ritual, we have to buy the partners we work for, whose names adorn the front of the building, holiday gifts. I believe the tradition began when they were a baby firm. Three, four attorneys all working closely (probably too closely) together. At that time a sense of family and a sink-or-swim mentality prevailed. It was natural and easy. I also think gifts flowed in both directions. We are no longer there. On any level. Partners are partners. With Mercedes' and estates. We are bigger, much bigger, a dozen attorneys and 50 staff people. We are swimming, merrily along. But yet that last vestige remained.
I guess it would be rude to be the first group of associates to end the tradition. What message would that send? Questions would fly about our happiness level. But it is not that; this tradition is not tied to happiness. In Real Simple they did not have gift suggestions for your bosses. There are suggestions for your hairdresser, post man and yoga instructor. Even do's and don'ts. But not for your boss. Because simply put you should not be buying gifts for your bosses. Unless, they add, you are sucking up or you want to bribe them. The message was obvious, no one wants to be considered a suck up. Well here it is not really about that either. Since all associates chip in. But the idea behind what Real Simple had to say is still there. Don't buy gifts for your boss. "But! But!", I putter to myself...."what about the rest of us?" We are stuck in a tradition that is frowned upon by the manners' gurus.
Given these circumstances it makes gift purchasing, IMPOSSIBLE. Of course none of the websites list boss as a potential recipient. Since people are not supposed to buy things for their bosses. Duh. Go figure. Plus, what do you buy people who have more money than necessary and all the trappings of a successful life? On top of the fact that the typical office type gifts, business card holders, paper weights and such were used up years ago. Can we re-gift those ideas? Or do we need creative different ideas? Last year was gift baskets picked in an attempt to match personalities. That was a task. But again, these are our bosses, so it needs to be tasteful. We want the gifts to be meaningful, polite, sophisticated and appreciated. This seems very difficult for any boss. Lets add four and make that three men and a lady. One who does not drink. At all. Ever. IMPOSSIBLE.
What makes it worse. Absolutely the worst, in a I am whiny baby way, is that we get nothing. As associates in a law firm, we do not get a Christmas bonus nor do we get a small token of holiday cheer. Nothing. So our efforts to shop for the right gift and our money spent paying for it, make the gift that much more IMPOSSIBLE.
Labels: J.O.B.
I tend to think the only reality is that there is a ton of bull shit. Sort of like that death and taxes thing. Well here in law firm land, bull shit is a guarantee. I have seen them manipulate and control others before. There is a pathology. People are forced out for make believe reasons. Issues are tossed about with transparent contradictions. One day it is this and the next day it is not. We question whether there are souls or hearts present. See I did it here. Harsh, no doubt, but that is what we are privy to. Perceptions get you pretty far. We are litigators trained to read people. What I see is what I have to believe. Those impressions are lasting, for damn sure. These actions are not helping that perception one bit.
I get to go off my gut also. On this one I pull the woman card, we have intution. Trust me we really do. If I don't think they are genuine true words, I am not going to be persuaded. Plus you may not believe mine. So we are even. I have to watch my back, just like you look out for your own. My instincts tell me to do that, among other things. Protect and defend. If I don't, I am pretty sure no one else will. Hey, and if I am wrong, what did I really lose? I have secured borders and a tight fortress. All it leaves me with is protection. Apparently what else it leaves me with, is strength and leverage. Who knew? Bonus for me. See, look at that, I didn't really lose anything at all. It got me mystery and intrigue. I kept my walls so well secured, it was difficult to read me. So that when it came time to defend and explain (why my billables were up to par) i was able to pull from a litany of stories. No one could question the truth. It helped me gain the upper hand. I don't get a tirade, ranting and threats and my cards are not on the table. Notta one of them. I keep a close watch on that heart of mine, I keep my eyes wide open all the time....Looking pretty good from over here. That Cash man was right and it is not always love that we have to protect.
I have every right to do that. My gut tells me not to handle it any other way. I should not be criticized for keeping things private. "Really, you want to be my psycotherapist? Why as my boss would you want that role?" I swear they asked to be and even lectured on my need for them to assume that role. Could things be more bizzare? "As a sign of respect and decorum we would avoid that." On my end I think, about that trust issue, why play into it? Open up to them and give them personal information. Not only would I not get these benefits, but I know it will be used against me in a later date. Who needs that? It is called personal for a reason.
How freaking paranoid does all that garbage sound? Well it is the reality of this life and most lawyers lives. I am certain. You've seen The Firm. Sure it is not thaaaaat bad....but where did all that material come from? John Grisham was a practicing lawyer. There is reality in it all. There is no trustworthiness. None. Where that characteristic is inherent in a family structure, it is noticeably absent here. Despite their best efforts to mock a familial existence. Newest resemblence, wanting to be my sister and a support structure. In a family you have to work really hard to wreck the trust. Really hard. Here you have to work really hard and you will probably never get the trust. How ass backward, huh? It makes for a unique environment. Fun and jovial. Young and interesting. There are people there to lean on. Really there are and I do trust them. We call those people friends a/k/a associates. But there is a secret ugly underbelly. And that is where the uniqueness lays. That is why this office and this job are fundamentally different and bizarre. That is why we get crazy ass stories and piles of bull shit.
Labels: J.O.B.
At a recent lunch for ladies lawyers, we heard a group of “power” speakers. These women are not lawyers, but travel and put on performances meant to inspire and give women power. The stories we heard were their life stories condensed into five minutes and told to give maximum effect to their point. This experience stood out for a number of reasons.
1. I previously elaborated here, where I saw the different experience I was having vs. what may go on in other firms with women.
2. One women told of trying to breathe through every moment of life. She emphasized not missing moments or living for the future of “when I's…..” I realized that I have not done that in a long time. Sure I look forward to events, especially when I have planned things, like vacations. But that is healthy and positive. Hers was meant for a grander scale. I don’t do it like that, any more. With this outlet and my push to write everyday, I am forced to take inventory on a regular basis. I can assess and discern. I am acutely aware (maybe even too much so) of what is going on and where I am mentally. Check one for me.
3. But being there made me question why I have not turned my URL over to my actual friends and family. I let strangers read these thoughts. That is easy, who cares what they think? Chances are I am not going to offend them and they will not offend me. A harsh comment from a stranger can be blown off because they don’t truly know me. My fear paralyzes me. One speaker said that was our biggest impediment to enjoying life and fulfilling our goals, fear. She urged us to let it go. I also silently noted that these people had no problem displaying their lives and performing in front of people. They were not scared at all. They had no fear of being laughed at or getting a bad review. They were living their dreams and appeared extremely happy. They took the risk. The reality of that hit me, I need to follow both their spoken words and the example they set. Trade my fears for passions and follow my dreams. To me, that could be sharing my thoughts and writing with my friends and family. They love me and support me and will stand by me good or bad. I shouldn’t let fear of criticism stand in the way of that. Especially when a positive comment can make my day. I am shutting myself off from even allowing the positive and from the growth you get from allowing others to share in your work. Fear has prevented all that.
I finished writing this and then two days later attended a speaking event with Rachael Leeds. She writes, lectures, and aids women into creating what she calls “an ethical will”. This will is meant to be stories and blessing you write to pass onto your loved ones, family members, and children. So they know how you feel about them, they know your story and history, and they have some of your lessons to pass onto future generations. It was all very special and touching. Her message was clear and her stories were compelling. I cried as she read some examples. A grandmother’s tale to her granddaughter about how she cares for her now and in twenty years the roles will be reversed. A letter to a two year daughter on what she wants her to see in her life. Then I thought about #2 above and what I had been doing. It was exactly that. I wanted this not just as therapy for me, but a document of my life. For me to reflect on and my loved ones and future children to cherish. They can see the start of my relationship with Magoo and struggles I had as a young professional. I can see them too, and hopefully smile at how far I have come. God, do I hope I can smile then. The speaker made me keenly aware of what I already knew, the reasons I have been doing this. But this woman succinctly nailed them on the head and at the same time made me proud. I had been doing what she preached and what already sounded like an excellent idea. More so, writer or not, female or not, we should all do this. For our own sake and our families sake. It is truly valuable. Legacies, tradition and stories are valuable and they are powerful. They give you the power to understand your own voice. Get at the heart of it and hear yourself. They get you to look to where you came from, the whole family history and to rememberyour own mothers’ lessons. Those that affect and effect you. Those you want to pass on. Reflecting on your current mental and physical status. A quick status check to make sure you are okay. Sharing your dreams and aspirations, again a status check to insure they are what you are actually working for and what you still want today. Not what you wanted a dozen years ago or what your parents wanted for you. So that others know what a dreamer and a go getter you were. It is all powerful, for all involved.
Labels: Friends/Family, J.O.B., Perspective
This afternoon I attended a woman in law luncheon, for lawyers who practice in Hillsborough County. This is a monthly meeting, one I plan on attending more regularly. It was amazing being in a room with close to 100 female lawyers. They ranged in age, including some who had just taken the bar exam. I am certain there were all practice levels and practice groups there. At my table there were two women who introduced themselves as partners. As in they practice together. We just loved the ring of that. It sounded powerful and sassy. They were well dressed and well groomed, Ferragamo handbags, St. John's Suits and Anne Klein pumps. They were clearly successful in their eminent domain practice. I always love meeting and seeing women in their forties and fifties and beyond who are stylish and sophisticated. They had beautiful jewelry, perfect makeup and obviously a law practice and families. How do they freaking do it? I sort of think the money tends to help. But, that is why I plan on becoming a regular; maybe I can pick up a thing or two or three.
I flash to our female role model here. One female partner. That is par with the country average where approximately 17% of partners in law firms are women. With four partners here, our quarter representation is fair. Yet, she does not relish the womanly role. What is unclear is whether this is by choice, as in it is not a part of her personality, or whether by consequence. Maybe that is how she got to where she is today, taking a tough attitude, not playing into the feminism and displaying her female side. No, I am not calling her manly or butch. By far she is not. It is just different; she would not have attended one of these functions and does not put on an air that she would care to. She does not flash her "I am a woman" card often.
So I have no real experience with female lawyers, especially successful partners in firms, who chose to participate in these ideals. We saw women enter with their younger associates in tow. Obviously this could have been a mandated event that they had to participate in and even that the firm sponsored. Ours didn’t. We shelled out our own $20.00. I can’t even imagine what that is like, having that kind of firm environment. It was like watching and envying a mother/daughter relationship that was in perfect synch. I know there are a ton of extraneous factors that can contribute to the appearance they presented at the luncheon. But for arguments sake and what I witnessed, they moved together like actual friends and compatriots.
That would be nice. It would foster a more generous environment. There would not be such a hierarchy, one that they seemingly want to dismantle and are confused by. Yet, it is obviously there still because this is lacking. The lack of compassion for their female brethren and their legal community both contribute to that problem. There is no desire here to enhance that atmosphere of the firm, though in reality it is a huge part of the actual practice of law. You need to be a member of the community that you share your legal oath with. There is no desire here to teach that alongside deposition techniques and litigation strategy. It is not something on our to-do lists. Instead it is strictly business and billing. Talk about not fostering a realtionship, we don't get credit or billing for our attendance at such events. There is seemingly no want to create a small community here, where we can turn to each other as women and share, confide, and associate. We are associates after all.
Labels: J.O.B., Perspective
You searched through her office. Door closed, occasionally files dropped outside in the hallway. What were you looking for? Evidence of what? You already got rid of her.....we are not owed an explanation. But when you are in there for hours, eye brows are raised. Was that the reason she was let go? In her condition? With a baby...c'mon really.
We converse quietly amongst ourselves, trying to figure it out. Doors are closed, three, four of us in one space at a time. All whispering different theories and bits of conversations. "Yeah, yeah I heard that too". But no one knows the truth. I personally think there is no truth. It is something amorphous, you can make up as you go along. One answer for this person on this date and a different one tomorrow. If it is Wednesday it must be her billing. Or something like that.
Then the next bombshell. He is leaving too. HA! Serves you right in some ways. Never, never saw that one coming. Did ya? He was your golden child. We teased that his desk should be next to yours, in the same office. He was in there so much anyway. He could do no wrong, though his ability to hide such was Houdini like. He got the face time and ass kissing down. I guess those do win you points. Go figure. Then he leaves. Poor timing to say the least, but completely out of the blue. And for what? Less money. But that is what makes it hilarious. Or heelllaaarious, said with an evil smile, as Magoo does. Literally, it was pointed out to all. Who would want to leave here? And for less money? Have ever a stranger thing been done?
Now you are in a jam. When just a brief moment ago it was jeopardy, my jeopardy. Instead of threats, you need to know we are okay. You smile sweetly at me. Buzz my phone with "hi theres" and "how ya doings". Offer me funny tid bits about claims and cases. Even chat about the weather. Yet you stand there awkwardly looking at me. You know you need to be nice, but aren't sure how to socialize. I twirl my hair around my finger and make sweet banter right back at you. You are skating and need to make sure we will be there to catch you. Funny. The tables turned rather quickly, in rapid succession. Now that is comedy. I know I am smiling. Plus, I move up in the parking space hierarchy. Small and petty. But doesn't that show my loyalty? That space would not be mine if I had not already devoted this time here. We joke that the spot is a sign of power. Clearly it is a joke.
But then what? What does loyalty, and power for that matter, get you? Respect? Hardly. Her boxes sit perched on the chair. Pictures taken down and wrapped with paper marked "fragile". Not a remnant of her left. A single phone call left to determine an appropriate time for pick up. How is it that we go from the friendly to the crude? In six months whose turn will it be? The whispers never stop. We all see through the fake friendly. But we take it and smile back. Why be rude? We certainly criticize for them for their attitudes, that would be hypocrisy. And we are so against hypocrisy. After all we are earnest while associates who would NEVER do things this inhumane. So who knows? One thing is for sure; my escape is now made easier by my new parking geography.
Labels: J.O.B.
We spent Thanksgiving last year in Vermont, as a family. Just the four of us. Four days in the snow in a 1200 sq foot condo. Half of us don't ski. I have not been in the snow in years. It is lovely and quaint. But the term cabin fever was coined for a reason. There is only so much scrabble you can play. Plus it took all of us several hours to travel there from Florida and North Carolina, where my sister was in grad school. I think that explains why the following conversation went down, on Saturday morning.
"How about, when you come home for Christmas we go shopping to buy you clothes to interview in and some to wear to work? I think something casual will do, since you probably don't need a formal black suit."
"Why wouldn't I need one? Is my job not going to be as important as Annie's? She got a black suit"
"No, I just thought you wouldn't want to wear one or that it was necessary for the work environment you were entering into."
"Oh, so you are saying I am not as smart because I am not a laaaaaawyer?"
Yes, that is so clearly what she was saying. It is obvious to us all, that her unwillingness to buy you a plain black boring suit means you are an idiot. Only idiot gets other types of work wear and less formal interview clothes. Idiots also graduate number two in their high school class, magna cum laude from an Ivy League school, attend graduate school and apply for jobs that involve words like hydrogeomorphology. Idiots are also published several times over.
Let's not forget who the real idiots are - laaaaaaaaaaawyers. We are the stupid ones. We chose to be laaaaaaaaaaaawyers.
Labels: Friends/Family, J.O.B.
I don't really mind writing about work here. To me it is a big part of my life. The job I have is a part of my career and truly something I worked for my whole life. I was in school until 25 and spent three months studying for my professional certificate and license. Lets not even get into the cost of all that. We have 30 years and six figures to deal with that. So this has not only been something that is my whole life but it is a great part of my life. Given all that, I really need to explore options outside of my job. Oh boy do I ever. Tennis Anyone? Yoga, baking, volunteer work. All on my high, high priority to-do list. Yet, for the time being, and for the greater part of the last two years, the job has been a dominanting force in my life. Having invested so much time and effort getting here, its really no wonder. I am reminded of it every month when Sallie Mae deducts a chunk of change from my bank account.
I also derive a lot of satisfaction and esteem from the job. I know I am not the only one. We all do because of the time, effort and expense we put in to get there. Plus the hours spent in the office itself. Blood, sweat and tears if you will. Yes, true tears, and not always behind closed doors either. Senior and Junior partner are like parents in their own right. This is true not just based on gender, but because they want to really care and know and be in control of your life, just like 'rents. They also have the power to make or break your day with comments, criticism and critiques. Just like mom and dad. So with all these factors in place it is no wonder the job has become the J.O.B. Trust me it is not a place I call home just because I spend most of my waking hours there.
So I have no problem writing about it. Otherwise, this would not be about my life. My stories center around my job, in the same way they do my (non-psuedo) friends and family. There should not be any secrecy about it (attorney-client privilege understood). I know, I know, no one wants to hear about other peoples job woes. After all, we all have them. But these are by far unique to the legal practice. While bull shit is bull shit, it runs a whole new stink in a law firm. It is probably the effort and time put in to getting there. It is also definitely the attitude amongst litigators. Yes, their shit does stink. This is what creates new and different bull shit. It is also what makes them unique and crazy.
What is especially unusual here is that mom and dad atmosphere we have going on. This also creates a sibling relationship(or rivalry) amongst the associates. Truer because they are all young as well. I mean really under 33. Pretty young. In general really the whole staff is young. This creates a jovial environment and fun times. Lunch, coffee breaks, discussions about boys, TV and feeling FAT. A close knit group that can rely on each other in all situations. And we have; babies, breakups, weddings and deaths. It is a lot of camp like drama and sorority type times. That is until you lose a member of your family. It is inevitable. People leave all the time. We even hear in those practicing with professionalism classes, all associates will be fired from a job sometime in their legal career. Still when it happens in your home, it really hits the bull shit on the head. BAM. It is the reality that it can happen at any time to any one. It is the reality that we are down a man. For a small group, that is a large percentage of our family gone. It is the reality that your esteem and self worth, your home, can be swept away quickly. In an instant.
But it is not an instant. It is something we have talked about over morning coffee, afternoon lunches and times we should be working. Yeah those doors are closed, we are talking about about it. We are paranoid and insecure. Are their lights on because they are talking about us? Why am I not doing that depositon? She has a lot more hours then I do. Since we are not privy to all the information, speculation is rampant. It is our second favorite past time, right behind eating. On top of that, it is something I have thought about on my own and wondered about out loud to my parents.
I want to believe they care. I really want to think that the feelings and sentiments are genuine. They do play the mom and dad card. Not that they use that phrase, since those are our sentiments. But they create a role and appearance like they are parentals. Asking and prodding about our lives. Playing good cop-bad cop off each other. I know my parents divided up the roles like that at time. Plus, they are human and at times exhibit emotion (while that may sound obvious, sometimes that is in question, note I said at times). References have been made to the machine like qualities they exhibit. No joke, plugs and all. But, they too have been here, where we are, and you would think a level of recognition and understanding would be present. We can all empathize. But then you think back to your sorority initiation days of hazing, fat circling and binge drinking. That was done to you, because it was done to them. They remembered how much it sucked, but did it anyway. So couldn't the same be true here. Lets throw in several hundred thousand dollars that makes it worth their while. I mean why would they repeat the refrain of caring, understanding and compassion? About futures, partnerships and responsibilities? It's like saying you are funny. That doesn't cut it. If you are, people know it. It does not need to be explained and defended. It shouldn't be. That is why we tend not to believe. And why we speculate. But really that is why it is interesting.
Labels: J.O.B.
A presumption, compels the trier of fact to find the presumed fact if it finds certain basic facts to be present. Therefore, a presumption is greater then an inference.
If only I knew what the fuck that meant. It would make today a wee bit easier. Its a small wonder lawyers are hated.
I would also appreciate if people did not instigate litigation on the phone. No need for contentiousness. Can we leave it in its place. If I am calling you, it is not for my own productivity. It is because I was asked to. Do not give me a hard time.
Is Rony a man or a woman? I don't know and probably referred to he/she incorrectly. My apologies.
Dial your own calls. If you have the time to sit next to your assistant and wait for her to announce your presence and then hand you the phone, you have time to dial. It is arrogant to do otherwise. Why do I have the time to wait to be introduced to you and for you to come to the phone?
I went to Clearwater, this morning, for a deposition of an injured worker. This is fairly typical. However, what we did not know was that she was probably mentally ill. She is not so far gone that it is easy to tell immediately. It is well hidden beneath a quilt of stories. She has no idea where the truth lies. It is impossible to tell what was real and what was make believe, since there was nothing to compare it by. Not even her social security number is matched to her. A problem, I suspect, of her mis-memorizing it. She was convinced those nine digits were issued to her at birth, the Social Security Administration disagrees. She has a slew of pseudo-names. Initially, we believed them to be a cover. But now I see them as a psychosis and possibly a sign of schizophrenia. She literally does not know who she is. Unlike many, many, of the other workers she has no intent to lie or misrepresent. She does not even know she was doing it. She has no sense of the real.
I have dealt people like this before. I have been told that George Bush is with us, at the Judge's office, during a mediation. I have been called, as a courtesy, and been told to leave Florida because a meteoroid is coming and going to destroy us all. I have been told, in a deposition, that the reason the accident occurred was related to a terrorist plot. At a pool supply company in Bradenton, Florida, nonetheless. I have been asked, by a women, if I could please refer to her as Yahweh. I have read about made up gun shot wounds, arrests, pregnancies and strokes. None of them at all even close to real.
I think these are funny. They make my job interesting. But they are truly sad. I am not even going to comment on the social problems involved with treating and handling the mentally ill. We all know they make up a large percentage of our homeless population. That is a whole other reality.
What else was sad was the processional I passed on my way there. The entire Pinellas County police department was on the road, on their way to the funeral of a Polk County officer that was shot and killed last week. He made a routine traffic stop and the guy shot him and his K-9, then fled. They shut down all three counties last week in a massive man hunt to find him. The next afternoon the shooter was found. The officers opened fire, like it was nobody's business. Shot at him close to 150 times and put 60 bullets in him. Crazy. Yet, here were more men who place themselves in the line of fire, going to honor a man they probably never met. I heard there were officers from all over the country in attendance. Same goes for them. True heros. People who love their job and risk everything to do it. Their job means more then asking *crazy* people about neck injuries. It is the real deal.
Labels: J.O.B., Perspective
This little object controls my life. Those mercifully unfamiliar with it, this is a digital dictaphone. New, fancy and 21st century. It still creates the same drone as the tape versions. Especially since, the more I put into it, the more work I have to do, but the better I look. It is that whole billing thing again. I look better when there are more hours billed, a courtesy of the dictaphone. I honestly carry it with me where ever I go. In a city where blackberries are scarce and we have car radios so i-pods are not a necessity, this is my electronic device of choice. People driving by me probably wonder what I am doing when they see me holding it and talking into it. But I do and I will do it anywhere. It captures everything, the testimony of the man who is a liar and swore he never injured his back before. The medical records of someone's erectile disfunction, carpal tunnel syndrome, lumbar sprain, urological difficulties and physiological trauma. A review of surveillance of the severely injured women who is grocery shopping for 12 bottles of wine. My conversations with opposing counsel who just threatened me with litigation. Oooh I am scared. Guess what buddy? That is what we do, litigate. That is what we do and it is all captured on that small handheld device.
The funny thing is that I became a lawyer because I love to talk. I talk a lot and I talk fast. Yet I have come to hate to talk. I would rather sit in my office and read and type. I do not want to talk into it. When I look at that device, I sometimes feel ill. Maybe because of the power and control it has over me. I think quite clearly it represents a lot more then just that.....but this is not the time or place for such ramblings. For now my disdain for the device will have to do. We (well, those of us that know who we are) have all been there.
On a related topic, I recently received this e-mail. All of it holds true. Most of it is sadly funny.YOU KNOW YOU WORK IN A LAW FIRM WHEN .....
1) Your resume is on a diskette in your pocket.
2) It's dark when you drive to and from work.
3) When your boss says, " We have a brief we need to file tomorrow - I need you here early, " it means: " Come in early, wait all day, skip lunch and plan to stay late because I won't give you the first draft until 3:30 pm and we really have until the last Federal Express leaves the airport to get it out."
4) You get really excited about a 2% pay raise.
5) Your office closes for a holiday and all you can think about is the hours you'll have to make up for taking that day off.
6) A partner comes into your office and wants you to work on a project, saying: "make it perfect, but don't spend a lot of time on it because we can't bill the client for this." You're left wondering what you're supposed to do. You do the work, and get absolutely no credit for it in the end, since the hours weren't "billable."
7) The fire alarm goes off in the building, and no one in your office moves.
8) Your biggest loss from a system crash is that you lose your best jokes.
9) Your supervisor doesn't have the ability to do your job. Most days, you have the ability to do your boss's job.
10) Salaries of the members on the Executive Committee are higher than all the Third World countries' annual budgets combined.
11) Free food left over from meetings is your main staple.
12) You're already late on the work task you "just" got.
13) No matter how early you get into office, for some odd reason, you always start billing at 9am.
14) While normal people take a newspaper to the toilet, you have a stack of cases.
15) From now until you die, you view time as a .1, .2, .3, etc.
16) You look forward to when 5pm rolls around because all the secretaries leave and you can finally get some work done.
17) When you get bored of researching, you take a 1 minute breaking, checking websites in the following order: 1) espn, 2) cnn, and 3) a random search on google.
18) You email the associate in the office next to you at least 10 times a day.
19) You always have "that one associate" that totally abuses the "all attorney listserve."
20) No matter what college and lawschool told you, the law firm document database does not constitute plagiarism
21) The thing that really gets you mad about working on the weekends is that the a/c is off!
22) When your talking on the phone in your office, you wish there was a little button you could push to close the door.
23) You always wonder if there are cameras everywhere to see exactly how lazy you really are
Labels: J.O.B.
