Sap-Tastic

I've had several jobs that were merely tolerable. Once I got to the office, I could tolerate my work and my work environment. But I would often hate having to go to bed because it meant accepting that I had to work the next day. I would wake up and dread having to go to work.

I felt this way about classes. I felt this way when I took orders at a pizza place in Chicago. I felt this way when I was a file clerk for a city's HR department. I felt this way when I worked for a year as a paralegal. I felt this way when I was a legal intern.

When I graduated from law school and started my first job as an associate attorney, I thought my excitement would eventually fade. And it did. A little. But in the 1.5 years that I worked for that law firm, I couldn't remember a single day where I dreaded work. Even if my assignments were unpleasant, my clients rough, my schedule packed, I enjoyed going to work every day. I looked forward to it, in fact. I thought I was a sick, soulless person.  But when I worked as an associate attorney for my second law firm, I felt the same way. Even when I hated my work environment, I enjoyed my work. I was anxious to complete my 2 hour commute and arrive at my desk full of Important Things.

I assumed it was just litigation. I must be a sick, sick human who loves litigation, complete with lengthy motions, court-imposed deadlines, and strategic maneuvers. I love litigation with a passion (as long as I get to be on the defense side, anyway). I was very worried that my love for my work would turn stale upon taking a "general counsel" type position as a civil prosecutor. It turns out, I just really love being a lawyer.

I still favor litigation. We won a summary judgment dismissal recently and I'm in withdrawal from the case. To my co-workers' disgust, I'm hoping upon hope that they appeal the decision. I told you I'm a sick person. Also... APPELLATE BRIEFS = love. I also happen to love contract and insurance law above anything in the world so....that probably makes me certifiable.

But, I'm finding that I love my job even when I'm not handling litigation. In fact, I love how exciting and interesting my work as a "general counsel" for a government entity really is. In my two months in the new job, I've handled such a random collection of issues spanning the entire spectrum of law. Every new assignment involves a new area of law or a different nuance to an old area of law. I had no idea how satisfying this work would be. It turns out that civil prosecutors (in my county anyway) literally do everything. Even though I'm a newbie at the office, the fact that I've handled one or two assignments in a specialized area of law already makes me the resident expert in those areas. The fact that the scope of our work is so broad really does level the playing field for junior attorneys.

For a long, long time after lawschool, I was very bitter about my career path and the huge amount of indebtedness it caused. I has assumed, like most of my colleagues, that a law degree would bring a six-figure salary. If I knew then I'd barely be making HALF that upon graduation, I was sure I would have ran for the hills. I felt like my law degree was not worth the price I paid. I felt cheated. I had buyer's remorse. I regretted my decision. I had so much bitterness.

But looking back at everything now, I realize that it WAS worth it. Because I love what I'm doing. Absolutely love it. I know there is a career like that for everyone. A job that you love to do every single morning. A job that isalmost too good to be a "job." A job that you would continue to do even if money was not an issue. And law, as expensive as it may have been for me to get my foot in the door, just happens to be the perfect career for me. To have that passion and that love and that enthusiasm for the work that you will do everyday for the rest of your working life, is simply worth it. (P.S. if you are listening Direct Loans: I still wish I could keep more of my salary and not give it all away to you.)

Also, how can you not love coming to work to cabinets like this:

I know this post is sap-tastic. Sorry for that. I'm just feeling so incredibly blessed right now. In the morning, leave home for a job that I absolutely love that both challenges and fulfills me. And at night, I get to return to a home full of love and giggles and two sweet children. You know what? As much as I hate the phrase and the rhetoric that surrounds it, you really can have it all.*

*Caveat: I would like to qualify by saying that "having it all" is different for all people. It also isn't about being perfect or having things easy. My house is almost always a mess, we eat a lot of leftovers, and my kids wear the same clothes until they fail the smell test. God knows it is NOT easy to get both myself and the kids out of the house by 7:00 am each morning. And, oh Lordy, are they cranky as hell some evenings. But, despite the flaws and failures, I do have it all. And it's absolutely wonderful.

The Happiness Guru Says

In high school, I knew a lot of kids who knew exactly what they wanted to do when they grew up. They had amazing concrete life plans. I, on the other hand, couldn't make up my mind. I wanted to be a pilot. An astronaut. A rancher. A film maker. A diplomat. Operator of third world orphanage. I was indecisive. Looking back, I realize that if I had just known what I had wanted to do, it would have been incredibly helpful to creating a road map for my life.

Instead, I've blindly stumbled through life. No goal, unsure of the end game, and without the luxury of a lot of viable options. I went to law school on a whim, mostly because I had no other idea what to do with my life and because I realized it was really hard to get an entry level job with just a political science degree. (I DID discover in college that political science, political ideology, and political philosophy were my intellectual passions...but yeah, try translating THAT into a paycheck!)

I stumbled blindly into lawschool. Which led me haphazardly into the only summer associate position I could get (insurance defense). Which led to my first real job (insurance defense). I thought I had hit the jackpot when I discovered litigation. I never saw myself as a trial attorney but, surprisingly, I loved everything about it. Oh wait. No I didn't. After my 3 year long litigation honeymoon phase ended, I discovered a LOT of things I didn't like about practice in a private firm. I didn't like the crazy billable hours. I didn't like the pressure to bill more and more and bring in more and more clients. I didn't like the stupid schmoozing. I didn't like that you had to sell your soul to get and keep business. I didn't like working for insurance companies who were doing their best to pay you as little as possible. I didn't really like my clients either: unsophisticated and, mostly, irresponsible (some criminals, others just bad people).

On top of that, I didn't like my 5 hour daily commute and a lot of other situations with my firm's organization and....certain, um, personalities. Basically, although I still enjoyed litigation. I hated everything else about my work. Once, again I made a rash and blind decision. After applying to several other jobs and going to a hand full of interviews, I only got one job offer. A job offer I didn't even want. But, I was so miserable that I took it. I decided that if I was going to dislike my job, I might as well dislike a job with a 20 minute round trip commute versus a job with a 5 hour round trip commute.

Turns out, this job that I didn't want is absolutely the most perfect job on the planet. If I had known that this job existed from the beginning and all that it entailed, I'm pretty sure I would have known right away that this is what I wanted to do. I sometimes regret that I didn't have this goal to zero-in on from the very beginning. I could have tailored my lawschool experience and my internships towards this goal. I could have focused a lot of energy and dedication to this goal. I probably could have skipped a lot of crap and I probably could have been much farther in a viable career. But, at the same time, I realize that the crap I dealt with and worked through and survived is a large part of the attorney I am today. Somehow, each sub-par experience gave me a little tool. Now, I have a collection of tools that I'm finding helpful and relevant.

I guess, in the end, I'm very lucky. Hindsight has shown me that every bad or less desirable experience has played an important role or learning opportunity that has become essential to where I am today: truly and wonderfully happy and standing in a great place from which to build the career of my dreams. Is this another career honeymoon phase? Maybe. But it feels different this time.

In kill-or-be-killed private practice, surrounded by predominantly overly-aggressive male attorneys, I always felt like a little girl trying to be someone I wish I could be but simply was not. In my new government position, work is still challenging and stressful, but the entire atmosphere is less intense and less testosterone-fueled. I feel like me. And no one expects me to be anyone else.

The experiences I have had in private versus government attorney work is amazingly stark. It's night and day! In private practice, I was afraid of being yelled at or chastised for everything and anything (I will never forget my former boss' email to the firm "WHOEVER JAMMED THE STAPLER AND LEFT IT THAT WAY, COME SEE ME IMMEDIATELY TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF!!!!"). I never felt like I was working hard enough. I never felt really appreciated, just a pawn for the partners to make more money. Everything came down to billable hours. You had to account for every six minutes of your day. This made every task stressful.

Now, I am still expected to keep track of my hours, but it is so much more laid back. I've found that since the billable hour noose has been loosened around my neck, I'm actually doing better and more thorough work. I'm taking my time and doing things right. I get to act like a normal human who does attorney work, rather than a spazzed out, over-worked attorney doing attorney work. Everyone leaves promptly at 4:30. People are not constantly on the verge of mental breakdowns due to stress. People have lives. People love their jobs. People stay at their jobs for 10, 15, 20+ years. People do NOT think they are God's gift to Earth. People are still a little (or a lot) weird. But they are nice. The short of it all: I am very, very happy.

Lately, even though I'm still only a baby attorney and not yet 30 years old, I feel like a happiness guru. I know what it's like to be unhappy, mildly unhappy, and apathetic about your job and life situations. The last four or so years have been short, but they have taught me a great deal about myself and about who I want to be. I know you can only be unhappy for so long before you are willing to make drastic and even rash decisions. But I also know that life is simply too short to waste it on being miserable.

In the beginning I stuck it out in situations that I did not like because I felt that was a necessary sacrifice. I learned that the exact opposite is true. Don't accept unhappiness as a necessary pre-requisite for eventually getting what you want. You may never get what you want, or what you want may constantly shift. If you are unhappy now, fix it. None of the other crap matters. Life and careers are both about your journey, not our destination. The destination of a life or a career is a purely abstract idea that may never come. So do everything you can to enjoy the journey. And if you don't enjoy your journey, CHANGE IT. IMMEDIATELY.

Under New Mom-agment

I feel like I just had a life make-over. Or I'm living someone else's life. OR this is a dream. I'm going to wake up any second right?

The new job started on Tuesday and, holy hell, it is fabulous. I keep thinking "THIS is how normal people live?!" as if a cruel and unusual shackle has been cast off my shoulders and I'm finally learning what it is like to be a normal person. Everything seems brighter, better, and more wonderful. 

With my new job, I get the best of both worlds: I get to live like a "normal" person and have an attorney job! No late hours. No insane billable hours. No pressure to make partner. No anxiety over trying to bring in new clients. I get some darn good benefits. I get an office. I get to do interesting and important work. I get home at (or even BEFORE) 5:00 p.m. This just has to be a dream. The salary isn't anything special for an attorney job but...I feel ridiculous for even bringing that up given how great everything else is. 

The peaceful view from my new office:

The work itself is interesting and important. I'm part of a team that acts very much like the general counsel for the local government. We do everything and anything. We provide counsel on any topic that might arise out of the governance of a county and the operation of any government agency or department. This includes litigation and contracts. I already have research assignments on everything from agency law and the implementation of policies, Indian law tax issues, restoration of gun rights, and health insurance programs under the new national law. I've also been assigned to assist in pre-trial work for a case we are defending. I'm approaching everything with wide eyes, a bushy tail, and a unwaivering smile. Am I still dreaming?

There's just one tiny problem. I'm only guaranteed 6 months of employment. So as much as I want to let out a deep sigh and revel in the amazement that I actually landed this too-good-to-be-true job, the threat of future unemployment looms above all the wonderfulness. Still, I'm trying really hard to ignore that gray cloud and grasp desperately onto my effervescent and undefeatable optimism. 

Before I got this job, I had no idea what a civil prosecutor actually did (other than defend against lawsuits). I had no idea this was the job of my dreams. And that it was only 15 minutes away from my home. Even though I originally went to law school because I wanted to be an attorney for a government agency or a local government entity, I was positive that I would be a private litigator for the rest of my life. I had lost sight of my original inspiration or had simply accepted that it was too impossible to land one of these jobs, especially with my legal experience narrowly limited to the realm of personal injury litigation. 

When I interviewed for this job, I didn't even want it. When they offered me the position (by way of a presumptuous voicemail message welcoming me to the team), I still didn't want it. When I accepted the position (out of extreme desperation), I was convinced I was making the wrong choice and throwing my career away. But, I really wanted to be closer to home and told myself it would be worth the "sacrifice." 

The "sacrifice" has turned into the most wonderful situation I could imagine. I can't believe how lucky I am. Jobs like mine do not become available very often. Because they are so good, there is not much turn-over. I keep replaying all the events that got me to where I am and I cannot believe how well all the pieces fell into place. It's as if this is what I was meant to do. As if I've fallen in line with my destiny and the universe is indicating it's approval by no longer fighting against me. 

Now, if only I can convince them to hire me permanently....

Now that my commute is shorter (it's 15 minutes at the maximum which is only 13% of the length of my prior commute), I have truly become a different person. I get home at 5:00 p.m. and leisurely make dinner while the kids play at my feet. Sometimes we actually go to the park or ride bikes in the back alley or run errands or even do chores... DURING THE WEEKDAYS! This was absolutely unheard of before since I never got home before 7:00 p.m. and many times I got home at 8:00 p.m. 

With my prior commute, I would typically come home from work on a Friday night at 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. I would come home purely exhausted and have to fight an internal battle between desperately wanting to spend time with the kids and desperately wanting to put them to bed so I could collapse on the couch. Then I would sit on the couch and do absolutely nothing but be a zombie for the rest of the night. 

This Friday, I got home at 5:00 p.m., I disassembled Ryan's crib, I picked up the kids from my mom, took them shopping for party supplies, played with the kids, picked up dinner, re-organized the boys' entire room, and tucked them peacefully into bed. What a change! THIS is how normal people live!!

The momentum from this positive life change has encouraged me to be more balanced and healthy in other aspects of my life. For the first time since we were married, I put together a budget (with my husband's input). We set aside some goals and I'm tracking our spending with nazi-like discipline. I'm also eating much more healthy now that I'm not constantly rushing to throw food together or cram all my meal planning in on the weekends. For the first time probably in the history of my life there was a real (non-potato) side of vegetables served with every dinner meal this week. My daily lunches are even half vegetable. Who am I?! 

I feel like I have a complete handle on all aspects of my life right now. It's amazing how the extra energy and hours I've saved from commuting have completely enhanced my quality of life. THIS is how normal people live! I absolutely love it!

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Coincidentally, on the same day that I gave my two-weeks' notice to my boss, CM posted tips from her own giving notice experience and Corporette posted an insightful article that pretty much sums up  my day, "How To Tell Your Beloved Boss You're Quitting." Unfortunately, these posts were just hours too late for me.

Since being offered the job, I have been filled with one emotion: dread. Dread for having to tell my mentor/boss. So I walked into the office this morning, asked my boss if I could talk to him, closed the door, and ripped the band-aid off. I assumed a rush of relief and excitement would take over after letting my news out of the bag. But it didn't.

For some reason, I just have this nagging, horrible sense that I am doing the wrong thing. As I wrap up my cases, these are the only thoughts running through my head "will I regret this?" "is this the wrong choice?" "do I ALREADY regret this?" "Oh God, what have I done?"

I can see two paths being laid out before me. Five years into the future, I could be an experienced and seasoned trial attorney, having built a strong rapport with insurance claim representatives and with a couple trials under my belt. I would enjoy my work and find it challenging. But I would continue to hate my commute. I wouldn't see as much of my kids. I would probably miss out on a bunch of children's activities. I could be happy in this future. It looks hard but rewarding. Just months ago, this is the future I had always planned on.

But now I'm suddenly de-railed. My future is uncertain. For the next six months, I have guaranteed employment doing something entirely different (more like general counsel work). In that time, I'll have essentially no commute. I'll be home before 5:00pm every day! I'll have regular hours and medical benefits. I'll have no billable hours. And I'll have the opportunity to try something new and potentially open the door to long term work in my backyard. After those six months, however, nothing is guaranteed. I have no idea if I will like this work although I've always assumed that I would. I could be enjoying long term government employment in five years. Or I could be unemployed and struggling with overwhelming debt.

As I wrap up my cases, I'm suddenly nostalgic and sentimental. The cases that were the source of all my evil thoughts are now quaint little things that I will miss. For all the times I've complained about my boss, I really enjoy his mentorship and appreciate the opportunities he has given me. I've always wanted to make him happy and have his respect. Now I feel like I'm letting him down.

As I was leaving my boss' office he said, "Can I ask you a personal question. Do I yell too much? Did I scare you off?" I was a little taken aback by this statement. And I kid you not I said, "It's not you, it's me." Why does quitting feel an awfully lot like breaking up? I'm going to take a tip from Corporette's post and write a handwritten thank you note for his mentorship. Hopefully, no doors will be closed behind me when I leave.

I honestly did not expect to feel this way. My stomach is tangled in knots. I'm trying to trust that everything will work out. But I just can't shake this hesistant and trepid feeling.

On a happy note, my new boss has officially set up my "swearing in." I did not realize that I would have to be sworn in to work for the County. That sounds so official and exciting. I just might also get a badge like the permanent employees. How cool would that be?!

Happy News!

The other week I landed interviews for two different jobs. I really, really wanted the one job. With all of my soul. The other job, I wasn't so sure about- especially because it was initially posted as a temporary six month job. I did not get the Dream Job. But Friday, after a second interview, I was offered the Other Job.

Interestingly enough, the more I learned about the Other Job, the more I realized that it was a really great fit. During my second interview, I felt as if they were trying to sell ME instead of the other way around. They told me that they re-worked their budget and have figured out a way to make the position longer than six months, possibly a long-term thing. It's not what I THOUGHT was best for me. But, I'm realizing that it really IS best. Best for me and for the entire family. Funny how life works out, isn't it?

So...the job. I would be working in the Civil Division of the local County Prosecutor's office. This job has been described to me as being a "general counsel" for the entire county, including elected officials and other agencies. That just sounds so dang awesome. And this is my chance to expand my lawyer skills beyond litigation. And escape the billable hour. And earn medical benefits! And have a fifteen minute commute (OMG!!!! What is that like?!)

One frustrating thing I learned during my job search is that having solely done litigation work, I am not qualified to even be an applicant for any other type of lawyer position. Honestly, I never thought I would want to apply for anything other than litigation work, but I'm slowly realizing that being a trial lawyer is just really hard when you have a commute and a family. The billable hour requirement (even though it is fairly reasonable compared to other firms) is always a source of anxiety and actually decreases my productivity.

This is my chance to acquire new skills! I've never, ever had a lawyer job that was not entirely focused on personal injury litigation. I have no idea what to expect. But I'm really excited to try something new. The division where I will work is full of "lifers" so I expect that the environment and is pretty good.

While I'm really, REALLY excited. I'm full of dread and anxiety. I have to show up to work and give my two weeks' notice. I HATE doing this. You would think that after having three different jobs in three years that I would be getting used to doing this. But it is never easy. I work in a small office and I work really closely with the partners, especially the one who recruited me from my last job. I am pretty sure he will take it personally. He doesn't do a good job of masking his emotions at work and I had to "let him down." Plus, we are down two staff people right now and I hate to add more chaos to the mix. I know I have to do what is best for me, but that doesn't do anything to calm my anxious nerves. Ahhhh!

A Job Interview And The Aftermath

On Monday I traveled to our state capitol to interview for a job. It was an entry level political analyst job for a political party. The job was for assisting State Representatives draft and pass legislation.  It seemed like...my dream job.

The funny thing is that I didn't even know this was my dream job until I came upon the job posting last week. I had never really considered any legal work outside of litigation. When I saw this job posting and read through the description, it was like I had discovered the last missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle. I have always been passionate for public policy and political science but I didn't know what I could ever do with that major (hence my foray into law). During law school, I took the only job opportunities that materialized-- litigation. While I enjoy litigation, I have always had the sense that I'm missing something. The more I looked for jobs outside of litigation, the more I realized that I was absolutely unqualified to do anything else, beyond entry level work. This was depressing.

The idea that you can do anything with a law degree is a total sham (probably concocted by law schools!). The only thing you can do with a law degree is practice law. If you want to do something other than that, your past experience is pretty much the only thing that will get you there. The law degree will just serve as pretty wrapping for your resume.

Despite my lack of experience in public policy and committee specific issues, I landed an interview for my dream job. I showed up, smiled, played nice, and tried my best to impress. The entire time I felt like a conwoman. How can I take my completely unrelated experience and skills and make them seem transferrable? How can I talk my way into this job? I was very nervous but I thought it went pretty well.

I wanted the job so badly that I was almost too afraid to let myself hope for it. I held my breath all week, my heart pounded every time my phone rang. I remember feeling completely helpless as I realized that the thing that could finally change my career around, the thing that I wanted a little too much, was at the complete whim of a stranger. There was nothing more I could do. This is pretty much the worst feeling. It's better to have something be within your control and fail to achieve it than to have something be at the arbitrary fancy of another person. I felt like I was living in a horrible career purgatory. Part of me wanted to hope, the other part of me wanted to brace for the worst.

Then on Friday, an email came. From the interviewer. He initially set up my interview through e-mail so the fact that he was e-mailing did not tip me off on the outcome. This was it! Had I made it to the second round of interviews? I read the first sentence and immediately knew that it was a rejection. "I would like to thank you very much...blah, blah, blah."

I was sitting at my desk, in my office. The second I read those words, my shoulders slumped and my entire body immediately went slack. I processed it for a second and then the reality hit me. It felt like that moment after Christmas morning when all the presents had already been unwrapped. Major letdown. I could feel pressure building up behind my eyes and I tried to hard to stifle tears. A few slipped out as I turned my chair, rolled up to my window, and peered out. I remember watching the faint outline of rain fall and feeling that the weather was expressing my very feelings. I sat there kind of numb for a while and tried to figure out what I should think and what I should do next. What does this mean? No immediate escape from the billable hour. No new office. No new commute. No change to add some excitement to my life.

Since then, I haven't been able to shake this deflated feeling. Sometimes I am mad at myself because I know it is a tough job market out there and I understand that I should be grateful to have any job at all. But mostly, I am numb, apathetic. I'm not happy but not sure how to fix it. Is it the work? The billable hours? The commute? Is it because my paycheck is so small and barely covers our bills? Is it because I desperately want another baby (which has been veto-ed by my husband without any discussion whatsoever). Is it because somewhere deeply buried (behind the practical worries of future employment and the harsh sting of reality and a mountain full of debt) is the desire to be home with my babies. Is it because I'm not making the "difference" that I so passionately planned to do as an idealistic young adult? Sidenote: at 29, am I still a "young adult?"

I can sense that I am about to come upon a deep pit of depression. I don't know how to ward it off. I don't know how to make things not suck. I think I had hoped that a new job would fix all my sadness. And I'm pretty sure that getting that job of my dreams would have fixed a good 1/3 of it. But where do I go from here? Is telling myself repeatedly that I am lucky and happy enough to make it so? Maybe I really am happy and just going through a temporary rough spot. Then again, maybe it's time to take new risks.

There is another part of me (the more consistent and reliable part of me) that is taking this rejection very well. That part of me firmly believes that everything just works out. That part of my knows that there is nothing I can't handle and is not daunted by "worst-case-scenarios." That part of me believes that I did not get this job because there is a different job out there for me. It also believes that I am flexible, durable, and strong. This part of me is never worried or anxious and is acutely aware of the transience of life and the Important Things In Life.

Gee, I sure wish THAT part would take over right about now.

Yoga Pants And Ape Suits

Last night, mother's day evening, because my boss had promised a client that we would hand over a deliverable by Monday morning (and because I am nothing if not a procrastinator) I plopped down in front of my computer at precisely 8:30 p.m. and worked furiously. I researched and scoured case law and strung together semi-coherent sentences about complicated issues of law until my eyeballs literally lost their ability to focus. Two hours into my work I took a ten minute break to rest my eyes. After that, I didn't look up again until my project was completed, at 2 a.m.

I went to bed and dreamed about the memo I had just written. My dream self told me that I needed to take out the entire statement of facts because no one wants to read facts. Then I dreamed that my boss had a heart attack and this meant that I had a day off. I wonder if that is a sign that the mere five hours of sleep I get each night are catching up to me?

Today, after I handed in my project, the boss asked me to lead a conference call with the client to go over my research. It felt amazing. I knew the cases inside and out and when the client asked what year a specific case was published, I was able to rattle it off out of thin air, much to my own surprise. I felt so on fire and competent. The client would have never known that I was wearing yoga pants (working from home today).

As I was about to punch out for the day, my phone rang. It was a number I did not recognize. On the other line was the owner of a law firm near my house asking if I could interview today. I had completely forgotten that last week, after another long work night which ended at 1 a.m. I had whimsically sent my resume and a cover letter in response to a job posting I found on the internet. It was so close to my home, I figured that I had to apply.

"Can you be here in 40 minutes?" He asked.

I think the normal response would have been, "Heck yeah, I'll be there in 40 minutes" as a normal person would have proceeded to go to a clothing store and purchase something other than yoga pants for the interview. I, on the other hand, very uncooly admitted that I was wearing yoga pants. However, the interviewer was not able to reschedule anytime soon. 40 minutes from then was the only time he was free this week.

"We are a very casual firm." He prodded. "It won't bother me." No matter how casual of a firm it might have been, I doubted that they had ever conducted an interview in yoga pants.

He finally talked me into stopping by. I figured I would stop at a store on my way in and purchase any kind of pants in something close to my size that was anything but yoga pants. But the man on the other end of the line must have read my mind. He said, "Don't go buy clothing just for this interview. Honestly, just come as you are, it won't bother me."

Great. If I didn't show up in yoga pants he would know that I had bought something just for the interview against his instructions. If I DID show up in yoga pants....well, I was showing up in YOGA PANTS for heaven's sake! In the end I showed up in yoga pants. In doing so, I had just created the best interview story I have ever heard (well, aside from the one time I was interviewed by a lawyer who was chewing tobacco and spitting it into a chocolate milk container during the enitre interview).

As the interview began, the man went on and on about the position. It was for an associate attorney job in a successful practice in a niche and impressive area of law. It was a job that would require extensive travel and a hectic work schedule. It was a job that carried some degree of prestige. One that would challenge and satisfy. One that could take over my life, lead to an amazing career, and really suck me in.

Sitting there in that church-converted law office with an open floor plan filled with classic wooden desks and fancy woven rugs, clothed in my beloved yoga pants, I had a crazy realization. I couldn't help but notice how much different I am now from the me that went to lawschool.

The me that went to lawschool would have put on an ape costume and done cartwheels for this job (which is kind of funny considering that the current me hadn't even dressed for the interview and was sitting there in yoga pants). The old me would have drooled over the long hours, extensive travel, and challenging topics. The old me (the me that was a student athlete who worked every week day and babysat every week night pretty much from highschool through lawschool) would have loved this opportunity and would have worn this job on my sleeve like a fancy badge. That me was a highly motivated overachiever.

But the new me kept trying to feign interest. I actually had to force myself to sound excited and eager. While a tiny little peice of old me wanted to emerge from the murky depths of my apathy, it kept getting shut down. The overachiever that I once was has died. It didn't die overnight. It kind of fizzled away slowly. Somewhere between burning out in lawschool, having kids, and entering the dark side of my twenties, I lost that drive. When someone says, "long hours" I no longer think of an opportunity to prove myself, gain valuable experience, or work my way up the ladder of success. Now, all I can think of are the moments that I will not experience with my children. A half day of work on Saturday no longer equals a half day of extra experience and praise. It means one less trip to the zoo. One less ice cream cone enjoyed in the park. Two less meals as a family. Five less hours filled with hide and seek, bike riding, or reading stories.

Oh God. Who AM I? Who is this person who would prefer to change poopy diapers and be verbally assaulted by children than to craft clever arguments and develop litigation strategies. What in the world happened to me? Why the heck am I sitting in a prestigous law firm in two-day old YOGA PANTS?

Sadly, the longer I sat in that chair, the less I wanted that job. The Medusa-like call of success and prestige and money no longer held any power over me. As the interviewer rambled on about the 200 depositions he had taken last year, I grew sad. I had just given up an hour of rare weekday time with my kids for this?

The interview finally ended and as I walked out the door, I didn't even care whether he would call me back for round two. I was suddenly overcome with gratitude for my current job situation. Sure, my paycheck is kind of depressing but I get to spend two extra weekday mornings and afternoons with my children on the days I work from home.

I'm pretty dang lucky. Even if the old me would not have agreed.

Support Equals Success

At four o'clock this afternoon, I bounded up the stairs in my parents' house having just billed 5-6 hours of work, my new "full" day of work. I walked down the hallway, past the front door and stared wistfully at the running shoes and gym back I had packed before I left the house this morning, when my ambitions for the day were at their greatest.

"Man, I really would like to go for a run right now." I sighed. Despite the steady rain coming down outside, it was perfect running weather. The temp was in the upper forties and there was not a sign of wind.

"Go for it." My mom/childcare manager prompted.

"I would....but I've been working all day. I'd feel bad for not spending time with the kids first.

"Go run. Don't feel bad. You need to take care of you first. Your kids are so well loved...by you and everyone else."

I was grateful for that comment. Four years ago, my mom would have never said that. Four years ago, my mom had a very different attitude about the fact that I was a working mom. She had always been a stay-at-home mom. She quit her "working" career weeks before I was born and never looked back. She couldn't fathom how or why I would leave my kids (just "kid" then) and go to the office.

I tried to outline for her the intracacies of my situation on many occassions. I had a hefty student loan. I had suffered three and a half years of rigorous legal education and I wanted to us my degree! Also, to her utter disbelief, I WANTED to work. I loved being an attorney. I could go over these facts again and again and still she would make passive-aggressive comments like, "raising children is the most rewarding career," "children need their mommies," "So-and-so decided to be a stay-at-home mom, isn't that just the most wonderful thing?" and "are you sure you want to leave your kids and go to work?"

Initially, when I returned to work after Jacob was born, I felt like she was constantly fuelling my mommy-guilt. As if I was constantly under her strutinizing gaze. Maybe she didn't do it intentionally. Maybe she did. It doesn't matter. It hurt. I was already struggling with my decision to return to work (with nearly a mortgage worth of student loans, I didn't really have a choice anyway). I didn't need the extra self-doubt.

One time, my husband and I planned to attend a friend's wedding in Canada. We had arranged for my mom to watch Jacob for the weekend. When we arrived at her place that day to drop him off, she told me that I didn't spend enough time with Jacob and that he needed to come with us. Needless to say, she guilted me into abandoning our initial plans. We suddenly had an extra passenger for our trip.

But something happened over the last four years. My mom no longer criticizes or throws passive-aggressive comments my way. In fact, she has become one of my biggest supporters. I would like to think that I played some part in the transformation. I'd like to think that I have shown her that a person can have a career and a family without sacrificing too much. That a woman can be success at her job as well as in parenting. I'd like to believe that I have opened her mind in that respect.

When she told me today that I should go ahead and go for me run without feeling guilty, I was surprised at how encouragement I felt from that comment. I have always been self-motivated and independent. I've never really needed a shoulder to cry on. I've never really had a best girlfriend that I could call up and spill my guts to (and I never really felt an absence in not having that). I never really worried too much about what other people thought about me (I put enough pressure on myself as it is!). But, for some reason, that comment, and other comments like it that my mom has made over the past year, really gave me a boost.

With that encouragement, I donned my running gear and laced up my favorite pair of well-warn running shoes. I hit the road, the cold, and the steady rain with a light heart and happy mind. You know what? My kids ARE happy. They ARE well-loved. In fact, I am happy. Ever since started my new job (two days a week at "home" and slightly reduced hours which get me home at a normal person's reasonable hour), I havent't felt a tad bit of self-doubt regarding my decision (or non-decision) to be a working mom. For the first time in four years, I have not felt a single drop of guilt.

Part of the credit goes to negotiating my new work arrangement. But I have no doubt that a big part of that is the fact that my mom is now my biggest fan and a great source of mental and emotional support. No matter how independent we think we are, we can't do it alone. We can't do it without support.

Warning: Post Contains Nearly Sickening Levels of Positivity About Being A Lawyer

My favorite philosopher from my high school Humanities class was Boethius, a Roman dude from the 6th century. He faced some pretty rough times-- imprisonment that led to his eventual execution.  The basic theme from his most famous work is that good things and bad things are both transitory so we shouldn't let either have much power over us. According to Boethius, most of the time, we can't do anything to make sure we end up on the winning side of luck. Fortune is fickle. The solution is to be detached.

This kind of reminds me of the first version of the adage"bad things happen to good people."

His philosophical explorations make me want to step back, no matter how "good" or "bad" things are and focus on just "being." To accept everything as an experience. When things are bad, learn from them and move on. When things are good, stay humble, and remember that everything can turn around tomorrow.

But, at the same time, I kind of want to disagree with him. I want to believe that, while we cannot control our environment, we can to some extent make our own luck. We can prepare as best we can and arm ourselves with knowledge, preparedness, and skill. And while I wish I could learn to stay detached during the hard times, when things are good, I want to scream from happiness at the top of my lungs. I'm not good at hiding my feelings. Not ever.

So, with that intro, I have to say: My job is so freaking awesome!!!! AHHH! I love it. Love it. LOVE IT.

There is no clearer sign that you are right where you should be when you leave the office EVERYDAY skipping down the hallway shouting, "I love my job!" I feel so fortunate. How many people actually feel that way every day?

I know my job is still new and that, as Boethius says, fortune is fickle, but right now, things are so awesome. I'm not going to be detached.  In fact, I'm going to revel in it as long as I can. Because everyday I walk into my office and I do something new. On any given day, I learn at least 5 new things. I do something challenging. I do something uncomfortable.

I've been at my new job for only 8 days. And, although I only work 6 hours a day, each day is jam-packed. My work days are fully concentrated with challenges. In the past 8 work days, I've written 6 motions (for cases in three different counties). I've written a demand letter. I've met clients. I've participated in conferences. I've answered two sets of written discovery. I've prepared three answers to complaints. While I liked my old job, I've done more actual attorney work in the past 8 days than I ever did in the year I spent at my last job. No matter how much you like your job, if you aren't using your skills, your education, or your full potential, it will feel as if a part of you is missing.

As I come to work each day, I try to put my finger on exactly why being a litigation attorney is so awesome. By now, I think I kind of figured it out. With every task I complete, I'm shaping an end product. The trial at the end of the road is like a grand production, and each step along the way is a real opportunity to mold an aspect of that production. In litigation, you really get the sense that you are doing something of value on a daily basis. You see meaningful results of your work, at first immediately in a grant or denial of a motion, and then in the long run, as you present or keep evidence out of trial and get a, hopefully good, jury verdict.

And being a litigation attorney is also like a strategic game of chess. For every action I take, the opposing party makes a counter-move and vice-versa. But, unlike a never-ending game of chess, I get to see immediate results. After I write and file a motion, the other side will respond, and then the court will eventualy take action. Walking out of a hearing (or rather sitting at your desk while the partner waks out of a hearing) with an order from the court granting your wish, is a pretty amazing feeling. When that happens, it's like I literally see my cases progressing right before my eyes. And they are progressing because of things that I did!

In any legal field, with experience comes mastery and confidence. But, the laws are always changes. The court rules are always being amended. The clients are always different. The case facts are always posing new challenges. At the same time, you can be both an experienced litigator and still know absolutely nothing about a certain issue of the law. It's so wonderful.

On top of all that, lawyers truly are "counselors." We have a skill that is specialized. We know things that our clients do not know. We have such an awesome responsibility to guide our clients through the litigation process, educate them, assist them, make them comfortable, and help them make decisions about their case. I absolutetly love the client-based, customer service aspect about being an attorney.

Between helping people, seeing end-results on an almost daily basis, gaining mastery of the law while at the same time staying challenged, litigation is a pretty awesome gig. At the end of the day, I feel such a sense of accomplishment. And even though coming home to my babies is one of my favorite parts of the day, sometimes, it is really hard to force myself to leave after just 6 hours of work.

Who knows, all this may change tomorrow. Or maybe IT will stay the same and I will be the one to change. But for now, things could not get better. I'm going to ride this positivity out for as long as it will carry me.

Not Just Easier, But Better

When I returned to work after my 4 month maternity leave. Things were....difficult. Mornings sucked as I had to pry myself away from my children. I wasn't used to giving up my baby on a daily basis. Up to that point, he was almost always with me. He was my little buddy.

Once I got to work, my thoughts were consumed by them. Everything reminded me of them and the fact that I was not with them. It was hard to focus. I couldn't have pictures of Ryan in my office because they would bring me tears. I cried often. Random things would trigger my tears. I would sit in my office, let the tears fall down my face, and try so hard to will them to stop before anyone saw me.

Things were hard for at least a month. Then one day, they were better.  The teary-eyed moments stopped. I would finish a whole day of work and suddenly realize that I hadn't thought about the kids that day.

It amazed me how quickly I got into the routine of dropping off the kids and going to work. This is especially amazing to me because for several weeks it seemed as if things would be hard forever. That crying at the office would be my life for the foreseeable future. That would suck, right?

I'm not saying it's easy to leave the kids in the morning. When I wake up, I only get about 20 minutes of awake time with the kids before I pile them in the car. That time is mostly spent getting dressed while listening to them talk and giggle with each other from across the room. Those first 20 minutes with the kids are so precious. I always hate to interrupt that time.

Somedays when I drop the kids off at my mom's house in the mornings, it would be very easy to let pity take over and to wallow in the fact that I don't get to be with my boys all day. It would be easy to let the pang of separation flourish. But on those days where it still feels hard to leave them and go to work, I make a conscious decision to not wallow. And usually, by the time I get to the office, I'm too excited to tackle the challenges waiting for me on my desk to focus on feeling sad.

This is why, for me, it has become so important to have a challenging job in which I get to use my lawyer skills and education. When I leave my kids each morning, it helps to know that I'm using my time away from them wisely. That I'm doing something worthwhile. That I'm learning, and growing, and using my (horribly expensive) education.

But you know what else? Even though I'm not with them all day, I'm teaching my boys something very important. I'm teaching them that women can play many roles. Women can be loving mommies AND they can be bread winners. They can be lawyers. They can be professionals. They can be valued for their skills and intellect. They can be independent. They can be confident without all the negative connotations that usually follow. They can be nurturing at home and successful at work. Women can have babies. They can go to court. Sometimes one shortly after the other. 

I hope when my boys grow up, they are unable to fathom that women, at one point in time, were limited by glass ceilings. I hope, when they go to their own jobs, that it never even crosses their mind to treat women differently than the way THEY wish to be treated in the workplace.  I hope the only world they know is one where women hold positions of power and are respected for their capabilities. When they date and get married, I hope they operate under the assumption that their girlfriends and wives can do great things, both in and out of the home. And, I hope their default setting is to support their significant others in any path that they choose. I hope, they are imparted with the knowledge that women can be strong and smart and successful in anything they do.

I hope that by going to work every day, I teach them a little bit of all that. And just maybe, I'm also making things a little easier for the future women in their lives too.

The Heart Wants

When it comes to making decisions, my heart always leads. Logic is shoved to the wayside. I don't sit and ponder extensive pros and cons lists. There are no complex calculations. Reason, well....it plays a supporting role.

I don't know if I always make the best-overall choices. But I always make the best-for-me-right-now choices. I'm ok with that. Actually, that's what makes me happy. It doesn't make me happy to plan and plot. When I DO make plans, those plans are guaranteed to change. Instead, I live for spontanaeity. I love knowing that nothing is certain and that I'm not stuck to a script or trapped to a pre-decided plot.

This is the reason why I packed up my life after highschool and traveled to the other side of the country, from Seattle to Chicago, for no apparent reason. I knew little about Chicago or how my life would look while I was there. But it felt right. And for some inane reason, I wanted to be there.

It's the reason, after 2 years of dating, my husband and I eloped without telling a soul. It's the reason we had our son less than a year later. It's the reason I quit my semi-prestigious attorney job in a fancy high rise in downtown Seattle to work as a paralegal in the basement of a house 15 minutes from my home. And now, it's the reason I'm jumping back into the hustle-and-bustle routine of a city attorney just one short year (and another baby) later.

My heart obviously can't decide what it wants. I mean, how do you KNOW what you really want if you haven't wandered down ever little sidepath that catches your eye? I'm not in a hurry to get anywhere particular. Life isn't linear or flat. It's an adventure and we don't know when it ends. So why not listen to the little desires of your heart?

When the former partner at my former firm called me out of the blue a couple weeks ago and offered me a job, I knew in that first second that I would take the job. My heart had decided for me. BUT I had to talk my mind into it. I had to pretend to be responsible and go through the motions. "Can I think it over and get back to you in two days?" Was my normal, rational human response.

Does it make sense to jump back into the 4 hour/day commute (at least I'll be working 2 days per week at home), for a start-up firm? I don't know. Because I haven't thought that far. And I have no reason to. I know, in my heart, that I want to pursue this opportunity. That it just feels "right" to me. That's all I need to know.

OMG. I'm so excited!

Who knows, maybe next year I'll be taking the bar exam in Alaska?

So Let's Set The World On Fire

I was sitting at my desk at work today when I got an unusual call. It was a student. She needed to interview a lawyer for one of her college classes. 

She started out by asking me some basic questions, like "what type of law do you practice?" and "where did you go to school?" Then came deeper questions.

"What lead to you becoming a lawyer?"

I gave the cop-out answer. I told her I had graduated from undergraduate school with double majors in Political Science and International Studies. But after they handed me my diploma, I had no idea what was next. I mean what exactly are you qualified to do with a Political Science degree? So, at the last minute, I joined my fellow Poli Sci majors and took the LSAT. My dad was a lawyer so I already had some admiration for the profession. I decided to let my LSAT score decide my fate for me. In the end, I got a pretty good score so I went to lawschool.

After I gave my answer, I turned the tables and asked about her career goals. With a cheerful, optimistic voice, she told me she didn't really know what she wanted to do. But she wanted to dedicate her life to helping people, especially people in other countries. In short, she wanted to help save the world.

Her positivity and noble goals nearly bowled me over. I paused for a moment to reflect. What she said hit me. It hit me really hard. Eight years ago, I was her. I was EXACTLY her. Eight years ago, before I chose the path that led me to lawschool, I was desperate to serve.  I wanted to save orphans in India. I wanted to oversee U.S. foreign policy in countries around the globe. Administer foreign assistance in third world countries. I wanted to be a part of the United Nations. I wanted to give myself to the world and to all of her children. I wanted a career of sacrifice and love and diplomacy.

But I just didn't know how to get there.

After college, I had plenty of internship experience to help me land an entry level job somewhere. I had interned for the Governor's Office of Illinois (yup, that would have been the always-controversial Governor Blagojevich!). I interned for a documentary film producer. I worked for a small nonprofit arts theater. I volunteered at a children's cancer hospital. But none of that really led me anywhere that I truly wanted to be.

So I applied for a program to teach english in Japan. I had studied Japanese for four years in highschool. Everyone told me I was a shoe-in. I put tons of effort into my application. I prepped for my interview for HOURS. I was determined to get the job. But....I didn't. And I was devastated.

I had to think of a new plan quickly. I followed my Poli Sci friends to the LSAT and, somehow, stumbled my way into lawschool. When I entered lawschool, I still had my heart set on a career of service. I was certain a J.D. after my name would provide PLENTY of opportunities to go abroad and serve the world through some fancy organization or other. I was crestfallen to discover that those types of job were ultra-competative. My average lawschool grades would not put me in reach of those goals anytime soon.

Then life happened. I met my husband. We got married. We started a family. We gained a mortgage. We had car and health insurance payments. I left lawschool with a huge student loan debt. Debt that will likely stick around for the next 1.5 decades. Somewhere in all that life, I lost sight of my original goals. I landed an awesome summer internship at a litigation firm. I followed that internship into a job and that job has now become my career.

My ambitious, adventure-seeking, philanthropic self has morphed into a mediocre, boring everyday person. A person who dresses business casual and sits at a computer typing documents all day. Routine has replaced spontaneity. Bills have replaced travel expenditures. Contentedness has replaced my abhorrence for boring everyday life. And a family tethering me home has replaced my heart's desire to roam.

Sure, if I really wanted to, I could probably dust off those old dreams and follow them to the ends of the earth. But I'm a different person now. I've accepted the wonder and beauty of a routine life. I live like millions of other boring people across this country. And you know what? I'm even OK with it.

Sometimes I wonder if I am a sell-out. I mean, I practice personal injury law instead of feeding orphans or saving people from AIDs. Don't get me wrong, I really do enjoy my work. It's just not the fancy, set-the-world-on-fire job I always dreamed about.

BUT, you know what? At the end of the day, I don't care much about what I do....as long as I get to come home to this: