All Growns Up

I’ve had a really interesting experience over the past couple of weeks looking back over my old blog posts.  A lot of things have changed since I stopped blogging but one thing has stayed remarkably the same — I am still grappling with certain feelings about my job and my career that I’ve had since I started at the firm. As I get more senior at the firm the considerations change slightly but the overarching issues, the push-pull, the ups and downs are still there. On the one hand I like the intellectual challenge, love the people, and appreciate the stability and opportunity the firm has provided me. On good days I feel like my job allows my strengths to shine: my writing ability, or my people skills, or problem-solving. On the other hand, I often have a nagging feeling that the job isn’t quite me, not in the truest and most authentic sense. (Strangely I sometimes think I had a better sense of what I loved when I was 18 than I do at 31.) I watch the young partners at my firm who sacrifice time with their families and I don’t envy any of them. I feel like I should want to be a partner but I don’t think I do. And then I feel guilty because I know a lot of people would want my job and that I’m lucky to have it. But is that a reason to stay?

Then, of course, there are the golden handcuffs. I’ve always tried to live frugally and save money, and I never used to feel the effects of the handcuffs, but then we bought our house. I don’t regret it at all — in fact, I love love LOVE our house. There are few things I like more than cooking in our kitchen (or grilling in the backyard), eating in our dining room at our new dining table, lounging in our living room. I love our home life and I don’t want to change any part of it. But it does require that I maintain a certain income which means there’s no use dreaming about quitting without another job lined up (not that I would). It seems Little Miss Law isn’t so little anymore…suddenly I feel all growns up!

Since I realized I’ve been having these feelings for a long time, I decided to take advantage of a free career counseling program offered in connection with my undergrad. Tomorrow is my intake phone meeting and filling out the forms already gave me food for thought – for example, “what does work mean to you?” I’m hoping that if nothing else, the process might help shake me up a little bit and help me think outside the box. I love that I’m friends with so many lawyers who I can commiserate with, but not many of us have moved beyond firm life, so it might be nice to talk to someone outside this universe. This will hopefully be an interesting process and I’ll keep you posted, dear readers!

My cat saved my life.

Ok, so that may be a bit dramatic. Noodles didn’t literally save my life. He’s not Lassie or anything. If I fell down a well (or, you know, slipped in the shower, the apartment-life version of falling down the well) I don’t have much confidence that he would run and find someone to save me. (First of all, how would he get out of the apartment? But I digress.)

So what happened is this. I had an 8:30 am court appearance in Riverside…65 miles from my apartment which in L.A. traffic could take forever. I set my alarm on my cell phone to 4:45 am, to allow myself to shower, get ready (in my slow moving way) and get gas before heading out at 6 am. I forced myself to go to sleep at 10 pm.

Several hours later I was dead asleep when I was awakened by the sound of meowing. Loud meowing. Noodles was meowing his pretty little head off. I rolled over sleepily to check the time on my phone and discovered that my phone was off! I leapt out of bed, heart racing, and ran to the kitchen to check the time. I was sure that I’d see it was already 6 am and I’d be screwed.

What time was it? That’s right — 4:45 a.m. on the nose. Noodles was officially the hero of the morning. I have never been so grateful to be woken by Noodles at the crack of dawn.

That was actually the most eventful part of my day…court went well, the day went by peacefully, and now I am sitting with my hero at my side and watching the season finale of The Hills. (Can I just mention how envious I am of Lauren and Whitney going to Paris??)

On a final note before I turn to my Netflix, thank you, dear readers, for weighing in on my poll from yesterday. I’ve always thought pickiness can be good…I’m glad I’m not alone in that sentiment!

At least he didn’t shoot the messenger…

This week, dear readers, I seem to have a lot of law fodder for the blog, since mostly all I’ve been doing this week is working!  Those of you who enjoy the “Law” part of Little Miss Law are in luck; those of you who enjoy something juicier will just have to wait until I emerge from my bubble and (maybe) have a life again.

 I had an endless morning in court today.  The judge’s calendar started at 8:30 am.  Since I was filing an ex parte application (which means you file it the same day, so the court doesn’t have advance notice) I was at the tail end of the calendar.  Some judges are speedy and just whip through their calendars.  Not so this judge.  If he were in the fable about the Tortoise and the Hare, he would make the tortoise look like a frickin’ racehorse. 

To top it all off, once it was almost 1:00 pm, he finally called our case.  Two minutes later, we were headed out the door, him having just DENIED my application to continue the trial date.  It sucks to lose in court.  It sucks even worse when the motion isn’t even opposed.  (I won’t go into that.)  But the judge said we can give it another go if we submit a declaration from our client explaining exactly why he’s going to be out of town when the trial was going to be.  “This sounds like a vacation,” observed the judge.

As it turns out, it was a vacation (which I didn’t know at the time, the partner having refused for some reason to answer my questions about this) and now, guess who gets to go in next week armed with a declaration from our client that says “sorry, I haven’t taken a vacation in a year and a half and I forgot to tell my lawyers that my wife scheduled it”?  Who is going to once again go down in flames?  Yes, yes, that would be yours truly.  Today the judge was surprisngly “measured” (opposing counsel’s description) with me, saying that he didn’t want to “shoot the messenger,” but if & when I go back again as the messenger, I have a feeling I will take a big ol’ shot. 

Sigh.

Anyway, the upside of this whole thing is that the morning calendar in court was, for the most part, highly entertaining.  I could regale you with loads of stories – but any of you law nerds can put in a special request for that.  For now, I’ll just say that I saw some of the most atrocious lawyering I have ever seen.  And not just bad arguments — though there was plenty of that — but more fundamental mistakes like not listening to the actual questions the judge was asking (and so saying something totally unresponsive), interrupting the judge, and being generally, blithely unaware of the times when there was practically smoke coming out of the judge’s ears and he looked like he wanted to punch somebody.   As lawyers know, law school teaches you little to nothing about real lawyering.  Well, I think that a lot of lawyers (and people in general of course, but I’ll pick on lawyers for the moment) just need a seminar in good old fashioned people skills.  Seriously, people.

My favorite hearing was about whether a lawyer should be sanctioned by the court.  The facts were this:  the case was set to start trial this past Tuesday the 27th.  In a pre trial conference the lawyer (defense counsel) told the court that he had another trial in Burbank the same day, but that it might settle.  All last week before Thanksgiving, plaintiff’s counsel called defense counsel to find out whether the trial was going on, to find out if he had to have his 3 witnesses for the first day of trial fly out from the East Coast on Monday.  Defense counsel doesn’t tell plaintiff’s counsel until 4 pm on Monday that no, the Burbank case hadn’t settled so the witnesses didn’t need to come.  Of course, by then the witnesses were already flying in.

There was a whole dispute about who told who what, and when, and on not one, not two, but many occasions, defense counsel had the audacity to say “English isn’t my first language, Your Honor, but…”  What really sent the judge over the edge was when defense counsel remarked, “Your Honor, these witnesses didn’t really need to fly out, this was just grandstanding to pressure my client into settlement.”  I honestly saw the judge make a subtle movement forward as though inspired to leap over and tackle the attorney.  Instead, he told defense counsel firmly that the statement was “not to his credit,” picked up his pen and started writing.   And writing.  And writing.  For what seemed like an eternity, you could hear a pin drop in the courtroom as the judge wrote out his order.  Finally, he stopped writing and read the order aloud.  Bottom line: the attorney had to pay the other party over $6000 to cover the witnesses’ travel expenses.

Moral of the story:  1)  Return your phone calls.  2)  When the judge looks like he wants to kill you, keep your mouth shut.

I promise you more fun stories in the coming days, dear readers!  Happy almost-Friday!

Can’t We All Just Get Along?

Before getting to the meat of the post, dear readers, I just had to share this comic that my dad called and told me about tonight:

The only thing that confuses me is…does this mean that Little Miss Law isn’t a published author????

Anyway, today I experienced for only the 3rd time in my career the joy that is mediation. As you lawyers and non-lawyers alike probably understand, civil litigation is…well, not exactly warm and fuzzy. In the best case scenario, the relationship between the plaintiffs and defendants’ counsel is cordial; in the worst-case scenario, it’s World War III. Or there is the lethal combination — nice to each others’ faces with a vicious letter-writing campaign. (It’s much easier to be nasty in a letter when you have time to think about what snarky, well-phrased thing you want to say.) In this adversarial environment, mediation creates that glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, the parties may overcome their disdain or outright hatred of each other and come to some sort of agreement.

Most cases settle before they get to trial; but most cases get very close to trial or arbitration before settling. In our case, there was a mediation provision in the purchase agreement, so absolutely nothing has happened in the case apart from us filing the complaint. In this type of situation, the chances of settlement at this point are slim. In our case, the chances were virtually non-existent. Our mediation brief asked for hundreds of thousands of dollars; the other side’s mediation brief threatened a malicious prosecution action and sanctions against us. Even our mediator, a seasoned retired judge who successfully mediated a different case for our (difficult and unruly) client, told us that when he read the briefs, he said to himself, “Oh, shit.”

Isn’t that encouraging?

Suffice it to say, we spent the morning in separate rooms with the mediator shuttling back and forth, spending about 15 minutes total (if that) discussing the case with us and the remaining time trying to soften us up — chatting about anything and everything. He couldn’t get the parties to settle today, but to his credit, he would probably have had an easier time if we had asked him to preside over the Middle East peace talks. The other side’s generous offer in the mediation brief was to “allow” us to walk away and waive their malicious prosecution claims. After the mediation, their generous offer basically changed to “F— off, see you at the arbitration.” (As they trot off to seek sanctions.) Now that’s what I call progress.

Does anyone have any fun mediation stories to share?

It’s My Job, And I’ll Whine if I Want To

After my panic attack at work a couple of weeks ago, I have still been incredibly busy, but somewhat more calm. (Perhaps it’s just that I’m too busy to do more than just try to keep my head above water? Hmm.) I am still considering all my life options, but since I know I’m not going to be moving jobs or cities in the immediate future, I can relax and just keep my mind and eyes open.

One thing keeping my feet planted is that a case I’m on is going to jury trial in March, and I’m excited about that, so I know I need to stick around till then. Perhaps the fact that I am so excited about the prospect of choosing a jury, using a jury consultant, etc means I should stay Little Miss Law after all?…

In any event, at times when I’m feeling very burnt out and uninspired, it helps to know that I’m not alone. In that vein, I was amused by an article in my favorite blawg today about a poll taken that revealed that associates at big law firms are actually happy, and the follow-up comments on the truthiness or not of this finding. I can’t try to do the article justice, but the comments to it are particularly entertaining (and, as is always the case on this particular blawg, very snarky. And we wonder why us lawyers aren’t more beloved).

The commenters, among other things, say that law firm associates who complain about their jobs are basically big ol’ whining babies, since they are getting paid outrageously to do a cushy job. One commenter said that associates who went straight from college into law school are the biggest whiners of all.

Sure, call me a whiner. That’s fine. At least I’m not alone.

This past weekend I spent time with my best friend M. for the last time before she moves to England! We had a fantastic time — went to the movies (is there anyone hotter than Clive Owen, particularly as a pirate?), she made me some of her organic cooking, we dressed up for Halloween and went out, and we went to Santa Barbara for the day. When we were in SB, we stopped at a cute coffee shop to get some chai and ask for directions since we went the wrong way on State Street. I looked around at the people on their laptops and I thought how much I would love to be a free lance writer, and have my laptop be my only office. Of course, I know what an uphill battle that would be, but it’s fun to imagine myself as the next Carrie Bradshaw. Dear readers, do you know anyone who has actually lived a seemingly farfetched dream?

And, to top this off before I head to bed, something to make me and my compatriots feel better about our jobs, a quote from a reader of the above article:

“As a Naval Officer I worked twice as hard and earned one third as much money as I do as a 1st year associate in BigLaw. They actually let me sit down here when I am doing my work at 2 in the morning. That makes me happy.”

Yes…it could definitely be worse. Hold on a moment while I scratch “Naval Officer” off my wish list.

Have a Happy Halloween, dear readers!

A Heartwarming Halloween Tale

The date is October 31, 2001.   The place is Beverly Hills, California.  Kids go door to door collecting Halloween candy.  All is right with the world.

 One resident of the neighborhood opens the door to see a person dressed as a ghost.  The ghost begins to reach under its costume and pull out an envelope.  The homeowner fears that it might be a gun.  The ghost extracts an envelope and chucks it at the homeowner.  “What is this?”  the homeowner cries.  “Summons!”  replies the ghost.

The homeowner, disbelieving the ghost and afraid (so soon after 9/11) that the envelope may contain Anthrax, slams the door on the ghost’s hand.  She then goes to the police department to get it checked out.

Result: sure enough, it’s a summons.

The homeowner sues for trespass and infliction of emotional distress.

The ghost / process server, who as it turns out is a little old lady, injured her hand and sues for battery.

Morals of the story:

1)  If someone comes to your door on Halloween with an envelope, you may want to consider that summons you’ve been evading.

2)  If you’re a process server, you may not want to dress up in a costume when you’re serving someone with summons.

Things to think about this Halloween season, dear readers.

“Nope, It’s Just Me and My Cat.”

It’s been a long Monday, but a good one. Still, I am happy to be home, in comfy clothes, Sex & the City on in the background (no, there’s no such thing as watching it too much), with Noodles on his new-favorite perch in front of the balcony, and blogging. Mmm.

Today I met with the in-house counsel for one of my firm’s big corporate clients, down at her hotel by the airport. She’s been traveling around like crazy and we haven’t had much time to talk about all the deadlines coming up or about case strategy in general, so it was good to sit face to face with her and discuss everything. Even better, it was a great chance for us to bond. I met her for the first time a few weeks ago at the client’s corporate headquarters, but since we were in the office, we had no chance to just chat. Tonight we were both a lot more relaxed and while we mostly stuck to business, we laughed a lot. She also gave me a huge compliment – she said that even though I’m a young associate, that she told my boss I’m “fabulous.” That was a nice boost after the way I felt about my job last week.

Then, we bonded over a very unlikely topic — our cats. She looked at her watch and commented, “Oh, I don’t want to keep you! Do you have kids?” “Nope,” I replied, “It’s just me and my cat.”

(Ironically — this was unplanned — I just came to the part in this Sex & the City episode where Miranda moves into her own condo and finds out that the woman who lived there before her died and the cat ate her face.)

Anyway, the client laughed and said, “Oh, you’re a young associate, they don’t give you time for anything but a cat!” She told me that she has two dogs and two cats, and can’t seem to stop adopting pets. Then, I was even able to give her advice that is probably far more sage than any legal advice I can dispense at this stage in my career: how to make your cat stop biting you.

This, dear readers, is why they pay me the big bucks.

That’s the thing about needs.

Sometimes when you get them met, you don’t need them anymore.

That’s one of my favorite Sex and the City quotes — from the episode where Carrie and Aidan have moved in together, she is feeling crowded and she tells him that she needs to shut the sheer curtain that separates the “bedroom” from the sitting area and have an hour to herself. He says ok, she shuts the curtain, and then five mintes later, just knowing that she could have that space if she needed it, she feels better and comes out to snuggle with him.

That is a bit how I feel today–having given myself permission to dream and percolate about changing jobs, moving cities, changing my life, I somehow feel more peaceful with my life as it is. I’m going to keep dreaming and planning and thinking about a change, but I know there’s no urgency–I can make those changes however and whenever I want, so I can live my life calmly in the meantime as I figure out my next step. Whew.

This weekend was exactly what the doctor ordered. On Friday night, I joined Knittkins, the sisters and the Baron for pizza, ice cream cake and a marathon game of Monopoly. That has always been one of my favorite games, but as an only child I was hard pressed to get my parents to play with me, and now I know why — it takes absolutely forever. We played until 12:30 am when all of us but Knittikins and The Baron had lost all our money and property, and then left them to play head-to-head.

Last night was my friend D.’s big gala, and I was very impressed by him and by the event. He stood up and gave some remarks, and he is so poised and well-spoken — practically presidential. He has done so much in the year that he’s been at his job. It’s interesting because we went to law school together and he has had his moments of feeling wistful that he’s not at a firm — but as I told him when I called him tonight, he is making a real difference in the community, and I think he should be so proud of himself. (Meanwhile, as I like to say, I’m saving the world…one real estate developer at a time.)

To wind down the weekend, Knittikins and I went to get massages today. It was fantastic. I carry a ridiculous amount of tension in my shoulders and upper back, and so massages are normally not so relaxing for me, since I spend the better part of them wincing in pain. The woman today, though, used a great technique where she stretched and pulled on my arms and legs…it was like lazy girl’s yoga. I could get used to that!

Tomorrow begins another week … I am reciting a mantra to try to keep from sliding back into panic mode. Onward and upward, dear readers!

Bloggity Bloggity

Apropos of nothing: is there a cuter TV couple than Jim and Pam on The Office? Yes, I know, how very 2 years ago. And yes, I know that in real life, John Krasinski is rumored to be somewhat of an ass. (Stop breaking my heart!) But I was just watching them quip with each other and laugh together in that sweet way and it made me smile. Shmoop, shmoop.

After a rough night last night in which I had the worst stomach pain I’ve ever had (once the pain eased up, I pulled the classic and ill-advised move of Googling my own symptoms, and I even called Knittikins and asked her what her appendicitis felt like), and a rough day in which I had to shlep up to court in Glendale still feeling icky, I am now feeling more like myself. I have almost survived to the end of the week and, more importantly, I am beginning to put things into perspective. It’s easy to get bogged down with the details of my job and forget to see the overall picture of my life and all the choices I have, so getting to step back is a very nice thing.

A couple of words on my court appearance in Glendale. First of all, Glendale might as well be Egypt for as long as it took to get back from there. Coming up on the 405 interchange from the 101, I saw a hideous lineup of cars, and thought, Ah ha! I’ll beat all these suckers by getting off the freeway, making my way down to Ventura, cutting back to Beverly Glen and taking that over the hill and right back to the office. Of course, everyone else had the same genius idea….

Anyway, what really struck me about my time in Glendale is how much power judges really have over their cases. By way of background, in L.A. there is a mediation program in the superior court system. Mediators volunteer ther time, parties don’t have to pay for it, and mediation is all but mandatory. This case I appeared for today isn’t one I have worked on, but both the partner and the associate were on international vacations (lucky ducks) so I got to take one for the team. It went something like this:

Judge: How do the parties feel about mediation?
Little Miss Law: Well, your Honor, we have explained all of the ADR options to our client, and she isn’t interested in pursuing mediation at this time.
Judge: Ok.
(pause; Little Miss Law breathes an internal sigh of relief.)
Judge: But, that really isn’t up to her. I’m referring the case to mediation. So go downstairs and pick a mediator.

Al righty then!

This weekend promises to be fun and relaxing — a mellow birthday celebration with Knittikins, the sisters and the Baron tomorrow; my friend D.’s big gala on Saturday night (finally, another chance to wear the gorgeous dress I bought for my firm’s holiday party last year!) and on Sunday, a wind-down with Knittikins at Burke Williams. Exactly what I need…ahhh.

I’m also planning on ordering one of the many books about legal and nonlegal career options for lawyers, and I welcome any inspiring ideas from you, dear readers!

Little Miss ???

Today, dear readers, I had the closest thing to a panic attack that I have ever experienced. After realizing that I may have screwed something up at work and that any helpful paper trail had been routinely deleted from my email without me printing them, I closed myself in my office, tried not to puke/cry, and remembered why office buildings like mine don’t have windows that open.

This isn’t the first time that I have made a mistake at work. It’s not the first time that I have freaked out, imagined my imminent termination, etc. I admit that I tend to have a flair for the dramatic. (Who, moi?) But this was the first time that I stopped and thought, Is this what the rest of my life is going to be like?

Books and movies are replete with tales of women who leave their grueling, stressful law jobs, find their calling as a housekeeper/dog walker etc, become relaxed and tan and happy and fit, meet a dream man, and walk off happily into the sunset, law degree be damned. (See In Her Shoes and The Undomestic Goddess, for example.)

In real life, choices are hardly so cut-and-dried. Taken from one angle, my job is downright cushy. It pays well, I love my co-workers, I get good perks, it’s challenging. Relative to other law firms, my hours are good. On the other hand, relative to the non-law world, my job is stressful, the hours are long, and I have little to no control over my schedule. What has really come to bother me is the constant state of anxiety I find myself in. I wake up in the morning with an aching jaw from grinding my teeth all night. As soon as I open my eyes I am stressed about the day ahead. At night, I can’t stop thinking about work. And so it goes.

I know that a lot of people don’t like their jobs. But I have to say that my fellow lawyer friends seem to be particularly unhappy. And sometimes I wonder, is it worth it? Is it right to say, well, it could be worse?

I think I’m in a rough spot right now, too, because I have no one to “come home to” (besides Noodles, of course). Though I am coming to terms with being on my own, on days like today, when I am stressed and unhappy and emotionally exhausted, it is very helpful to talk to my parents and friends, and I do — but part of me just craves that intimacy of being with someone who will put their arms around me and comfort me just by being there.

Tonight as I drove home, Mom and I talked about the big picture of my career and my life. She told me that she thinks I need to focus, not just on what job I want, but on what life I want — where do I want to live, what kind of hours do I want to keep, who do I want to date. If only I knew the answers to any of these questions! Per Mom’s suggestion, I am going to start journaling privately about it, which I think will help. But there are so many X factors.

Does anyone want to pay me to blog? Anyone?

To be continued…