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!

Back to the drawing board

This is how my morning started out. I had no sooner plopped myself in my desk chair at 8:45 am when the phone rang. It was a partner in my office with whom I have a good working relationship. He can be quite grumpy, but I seem to have endeared myself to him. He sort of reminds me of my grandpa.

He called me down to his office to talk about the brief I’ve been slaving over for him. Something in the tone of his voice made me realize that he was less than thrilled. And indeed, as soon as I stepped into his office he began, “You know I don’t mince words.” Oh, crap. Then he blurted it out: “I don’t like it. It needs a lot of work. I think you just need to go back to the drawing board. You need to rewrite it.” Words that I most dread hearing.

He then tried to make me feel better by 1) telling me a “war story” about a partner who used to criticize everything he did when he was a junior associate to the point that he dreaded coming to work in the morning and 2) telling me that I was “doing great.”

The real good news was, though, that as we started to go through the brief it became apparent that I wouldn’t need to go back to the drawing board — most of what he wanted was already there, it just needed to be retooled and re-framed. I breathed a big internal sigh of relief. It also occurred to me that I think I have a lot thicker skin than I used to. When I was younger I would cry at the drop of a hat and it was very hard for me to take criticism. But today, the criticism didn’t bother me because I knew it was coming from a good place, and that it will help me be a better lawyer. (If he were a screamer, that would be another story entirely).

At any rate, I am looking forward to 5 straight days of NO WORK. I’m flying up to Oregon to be with my family for the holidays and this time, unlike over Thanksgiving, I am bringing NO WORK with me!! I will be busy next week, but until then, it can wait. I need the R&R.

Another interesting thing this week. I wrote a few months ago about seeing A. for the first time since we broke up, and since then we have hung out several times and are buddies again. (In fact, he called me tonight and wants my advice, so we are having lunch next week.) That first time I saw him again, I expected it to be so hard, but instead I just had the feeling of “Huh – I used to really be into this guy.”

Well, I had that same experience this week with the guy I dated a few months back. He stopped by to drop off some of my things, and I was sort of dreading it. We have been emailing casually, but he had still been in my head more than I wanted to admit. I think when I’m not dating somebody, the tendency is to want to reminisce about the most recent person I dated. Anyway, he came by, and instead of feeling sad or wistful or flustered, I just got that same feeling of “Huh.” It was as if a switch went off and I was suddenly 100% over it — I still feel friendly towards him but that’s all.

And that is this week’s reminder that things really do fall into place just as they should, dear readers.

Noodles and I are off to bed … one more day of work and then leaving on a jet plane! I may blog while I’m in Oregon if the mood strikes…

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?

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.

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…

Ring a Ding Ding Part II

It has been a very long day, dear readers, but I felt compelled to finish it off with a blog. I woke up bright and early to drive to court this morning; sat outside the courtroom for almost an hour reviewing all the papers that had been filed in the case; sat in the courtroom for an hour and a half while the judge dealt with other cases; and then the judge finally told us that he would “feel more comfortable” if he could have more time to review all the papers in the case. Seriously? He then reset the case for hearing on Friday. If he isn’t prepared by then, I think I’ll scream.

But on to the real topic for today. Over the weekend, a date came and went without much thought. A day that, had I followed a different path, would have been extremely important to me: my wedding day.

This week also marks a year since my ex-fiance and I broke up. When we first broke up, I thought that when this day came around — the day that was to be our wedding day — it would be incredibly heartbreaking. I thought I’d have to plan a trip or a party or something to distract myself from the absence of that event. I imagined lots of tears, lots of nostalgia, maybe some regrets.

I’m happy to say, though, that I didn’t have any of those reactions. Not sadness, not nostalgia and certainly not regret. To be honest, since I was working the better part of the day (on a Saturday – such is life) I didn’t even think about it that much. But when I have thought about it recently, the biggest thing I have felt is relief. There are few worse feelings than being with someone who isn’t right for you–especially if that someone is incredibly sweet and generous and loving, as my ex was. Toward the end of our relationship, every sweet and kind thing that he did for me just made me feel more and more guilty and more and more conflicted. How can I let someone go who loves me so much? I thought. But how can I stay when in my heart it just feels wrong?

I knew that us breaking up would be the right thing in the long run. I hope that, a year later, he sees that too.

In the last few months, all my friends seem to be getting married or engaged or in serious relationships. Again, you’d think that this would make me nostalgic or regretful or envious. But to the contrary, I am relieved — because I can imagine how happy I’ll be when I find the person I’m supposed to be with, I know I haven’t found him yet, and till then, dear readers, I am happy and patient.

Much like the song I’m in love with right now by the Wreckers: (ignore the cigarettes, old dirt roads and country songs)

Got my headlights shining
Down an old dirt road
Smoke my cigarettes
I should quit I know

The radio’s playing
Old country songs
Someone’s leaving, someone’s cheating
On and on

I think I might like
The quiet nights
Of this empty life

[Chorus]
‘Cause someday maybe
Somebody will love me like I need
And someday I won’t have to prove
‘Cause somebody will see
all my worth but until then
I’ll do just fine on my own
With my cigarettes
And this old dirt road

See I left another
Good man tonight
I wonder if he’ll miss me
Lord knows I tried

But I think that maybe
The thing that I did wrong
Was put up with his bullshit
For far too long

I think I might like
The quiet nights
Of this empty life

[Chorus]

I ain’t gonna sleep
I don’t wanna dream
About the things that I used to need
I ain’t gonna cry
Or go on living lies
I’m just gonna drive