What makes your life the most miserable at your law firm?
The partners who tell you to take all the time you need to be with your sick father, who has just been put in hospice. Those same partners then email you the next day to ask if you’re available to cover 5 expert depositions that start next week. And are slated to take a week each, over the next 3 months.
The salary. Because who the hell can live on $160,000 year and make the payments on the BMW 3 series sedan and the oceanfront condo?
The 2am texts from the partner, demanding you be in the office by 7am for an emergency conference call with the client about the contract you drafted 5 weeks ago. Which said partner just bothered to review today, at 1am.
The gunner associates who outsource rearing their kids to a team of nannies and private schools, and sneer at you for complaining that you couldn’t attend your kid brother’s wedding---because the partner threatened to fire you if you didn’t attend a client meeting about a product launch that was a year away.
The bladder infections you’ve developed because you only get a chance to pee once during your routine 11-hour days.
The nightmares and insomnia from worrying about mistakes you might have made in a filing, because you were so exhausted from the week of 20-hour days that led up to it.
The firm leadership crows about its fantastic training programs for associates. But when you ask a partner for help prepping for your first big deposition, she tells you “I don’t have time to babysit associates. Figure it out.”
The fact that your friends won’t make lunch plans with you any more, because they know you’ll end up canceling at the last minute because some rush assignment got dumped in your lap earlier that day or week.
You have pretty much lost all the friends you used to have, because you are so worried about accounting for billable time you won’t call them or email them while you’re at work. Which is pretty much 9am-8pm most days.
Colleagues who email you to ask you to lunch, when their office is right next to yours. And yes, you were both in the office.
The lawyers you work with daily won’t even meet your eyes when you pass in the hallway. The admin who has never worked with you always greets you cheerfully and asks how your dog is.
If you wanted to write fiction, you would write a novel, instead of making up shit to put in the billable hours maw. You have no idea whether you worked 18 or 24 minutes on that brief this morning before you got interrupted and sidetracked by some senior partner’s bullshit. And truly, compared to climate crisis, human sex trafficking, or widening wealth inequality, WHO THE HELL CARES?
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