Last week, I literally emailed this to my partner:
"I have serious concerns about this timeline. I don't want to sound melodramatic, but I think it just might kill me. Would it be possible to find another associate to help with this?"
I hesitated before hitting the send button.
It sounded so whiny, so complaining, so...wimpy. Honestly it was a manageable workload. It would've just required me to bill 12-15 hours a day which is totally doable if I were full-time. But I'm a part-time worker dang it! I shouldn't have to kill myself like that and miss out on yet another week with my kid (this has been the 6th or so bad week in a string of bad weeks).
So, with my stomach churning, I hit the send button.
She replied right away and told me she'll try to figure out how to relieve some of my stress, but honestly, everyone else is really jammed up right now too. And ended with this message: "Just keep calm and carry on, as they say."
On one hand I'm really glad we have the kind of relationship that allows me to question her staffing decisions. On the other hand, my blood pressure was through the roof for the most part of this week and I'm exhausted from early calls and late night drafting.
She did come through later on and found another associate to take over halfway on Wednesday. I wanted to give her a big hug for that...but we're not THAT close.
Showing posts with label Corporate (quote) Life (unquote). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Corporate (quote) Life (unquote). Show all posts
Friday, October 05, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Please Make it Stop
Pounding headache.
So so so tired.
For the last 10 days I've been working a grueling schedule--waking up at 4 or 5 am for East Coast conference calls and sleeping at 10 or 11 pm drafting agreements.
This was interrupted by 2 days in the mountains on a retreat. And while it was awesome, it sucked in terms of rest. The toddler did not adjust well to being in a new place. He wanted ONLY mommy to pat him on the back all through the night to help him sleep. And there was a hunger strike involved.
At the end of the 2 days, Judah was a MONSTER. Crying and whining about everything all the time. And of course wanting mommy ONLY.
And from that pleasant scene, I jumped back into the fire of work. Yesterday I got to the office at 7am and finally put down my pencil at 2am. Oh my aching head. And today promises to be another near all-nighter. AAARGGGHGHHH.
I try to leave the office at a decent time to spend at least 1-2 hours with Judah before his bedtime, but it's clear that he misses me and has turned up his clingy-ness to an all-time epic level.
When it's just the spouse watching him, he is constantly crying and whining for mommy. He never wakes up after we put him to bed, but he woke up 3 times last night, crying out for mommy. When I AM around, he insists that I'm holding him constantly. Poor guy.
I don't know how women can work much more grueling hours than I do. I feel so bad for Judah and there's no way I can "parent" him properly because I don't want our precious time together to involve tears and conflict.
So I let him eat crap for dinner--chips and gummy bears! And I let him throw his toys and crayons everywhere, only half-heartedly suggesting that we clean it up. And yes, I'll do an extra long bedtime routine although this can lead to nothing good down the road in terms of his expectations for the future.
Judah used to have at least 2 or 3 'timeouts' during the day. He hasn't had a 'timeout' for almost 2 weeks. And it's NOT because he suddenly sprouted angel wings.
But there is one highlight to my hectic days.
Judah and the spouse call me every evening around 6 pm to ask when I'll be coming home. And he shouts over the phone loud and clear--I love you mommy!
I love you baby!
So so so tired.
For the last 10 days I've been working a grueling schedule--waking up at 4 or 5 am for East Coast conference calls and sleeping at 10 or 11 pm drafting agreements.
This was interrupted by 2 days in the mountains on a retreat. And while it was awesome, it sucked in terms of rest. The toddler did not adjust well to being in a new place. He wanted ONLY mommy to pat him on the back all through the night to help him sleep. And there was a hunger strike involved.
At the end of the 2 days, Judah was a MONSTER. Crying and whining about everything all the time. And of course wanting mommy ONLY.
And from that pleasant scene, I jumped back into the fire of work. Yesterday I got to the office at 7am and finally put down my pencil at 2am. Oh my aching head. And today promises to be another near all-nighter. AAARGGGHGHHH.
I try to leave the office at a decent time to spend at least 1-2 hours with Judah before his bedtime, but it's clear that he misses me and has turned up his clingy-ness to an all-time epic level.
When it's just the spouse watching him, he is constantly crying and whining for mommy. He never wakes up after we put him to bed, but he woke up 3 times last night, crying out for mommy. When I AM around, he insists that I'm holding him constantly. Poor guy.
I don't know how women can work much more grueling hours than I do. I feel so bad for Judah and there's no way I can "parent" him properly because I don't want our precious time together to involve tears and conflict.
So I let him eat crap for dinner--chips and gummy bears! And I let him throw his toys and crayons everywhere, only half-heartedly suggesting that we clean it up. And yes, I'll do an extra long bedtime routine although this can lead to nothing good down the road in terms of his expectations for the future.
Judah used to have at least 2 or 3 'timeouts' during the day. He hasn't had a 'timeout' for almost 2 weeks. And it's NOT because he suddenly sprouted angel wings.
But there is one highlight to my hectic days.
Judah and the spouse call me every evening around 6 pm to ask when I'll be coming home. And he shouts over the phone loud and clear--I love you mommy!
I love you baby!
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
The So-Called Life of a Working Mom
I posted a link to this entry a few months back but thought I should actually put it on my blog as a backup. If anyone wonders why being a corporate biglaw firm working mom sucks, here you go. (And keep in mind I probably have one of the cushiest corporate biglaw jobs ever--70% part-time and a very understanding boss.)
The So-Called Life of a Working Mom
So a lot of people have asked me what it’s like to be a working mom.
Actually, that’s not true. No one has asked me that.
But you know, I bet people are somewhat curious. Because when I was considering whether to go back to work after maternity leave, I desperately wanted to know.
What is it like to leave your baby for hours at a time in a stranger’s care? Will you feel sad for missing all the ‘firsts’? Will it weaken the bond between the two of you? Will you be replaced as the most important person in your baby’s eyes?
I especially wanted to know what it would be like for a corporate attorney working mom. My job is notoriously un-plannable. We are on-call 24-7, 365, resulting in many cancelled vacations and telling my family every year--I might have to miss Christmas, start without me! When a deal is on, it is ON and you work night and day like kids in a sweatshop until the deal is done. If you need to fly out to another coast 3 weekends in a row to bash it out, you do it. Heck, if you need to fly to another continent to bash it out, you do that too.
How could I possibly be a somewhat present mom with a job like that?! On top of it all, I was a nursing Nazi. For some reason, I was fervently attached to the idea that my baby MUST DRINK MY MILK for at least one year. Anything less would feel utterly demoralizing. But let’s just say that high-stress and lactation do not mix. Making milk requires as much psychological conditioning as anything else. And who is going to let you take a pump-break in the middle of a 7 hour client meeting?!
The more I considered these obstacles looming ahead of me, the more I wanted to just throw in the towel and not go back to work. But the ever level-headed spouse reminded me that we really needed my income and it just might not be so bad. Why don’t we give it a try? If it’s really all that bad, I can quit. Anytime.
I looked at my $300 breast pump and thought, that’s going to be the dumbest investment I ever made. I’ll use it for 2 weeks and then quit. Well, it’s been more than a year since I’ve returned to work from maternity leave, so shut my mouth and color me surprised!
So what has it been like?
In a word: exhausting.
If ever in my life I have felt tested and stretched, it was laughably ridiculous compared to the unrelenting strain of working a high-stress corporate job and trying to be as present as possible with a high-need insatiably curious baby.
Being a working mom is like having 2 jobs. No, it IS having 2 jobs. You work all day with the stress and pressures of various project deadlines and then you come home and instead of winding down with a bowl of ice-cream and some Netflix, you jump right into the fire of your second job.
In my second job, the client was much more demanding and unreasonable than any in my corporate job. This client would scream and wail every time I tried to change his diapers, leaving trails of his poop everywhere as he wriggled and writhed. He refused to eat the nutritious food I slaved to make and screamed for crackers and chips. He threw his food on the floor repeatedly. He wanted you to carry his 23 lb body on long walks and screamed and wailed if you so much as hinted that you were going to drop him in a stroller. In fact he wanted to be carried all the time. Hoisted up so he could see the world from a different vantage point. And gesture that he wanted this and that PRONTO.
And finally, after you’ve engaged this little client in an epic bedtime battle and WON, you don’t even get to relish that sweet victory with some ice-cream and Netflix. Nope. You tiptoe out of his room and right to your desk and continue grinding out the mind-numbing draft for your other job. After working the night away, you brush your teeth and hop into bed, hoping and praying that insomnia does not rear its ugly head tonight.
What about the weekends? You don’t get weekends as a corporate lawyer.
So where in this narrative is exercise? Where is meeting up with friends? Where is going out with your hubby? Where are your hobbies? Where is your freaking bowl of ice-cream and next episode of Big Love?
It’s as poignantly absent as your sanity.
After living this kind of “so-called” life for a while, I had an epiphany--a beam of sunlight amidst the foggy clouds. Why don’t I just hire a babysitter and give myself some ME time? It’s worth spending a little cash to get back a little sanity.
And you know what? I can’t.
When I need a break the most, that’s the time I can’t do it the most.
I can’t spend any more time away from my baby.
Maybe everyone has a different equilibrium point after which they are happy to spend time away from their kid. In a given week, I don’t want to spend any more than 30 hours away from my baby. That’s why I work a 70% schedule.
But if work is killing me that week and making me put in 50+ hours, there’s no way in heck I’m going to take precious baby time away and do something for myself.
But I want so desperately to have some me time.
So there you have it. The catch-22 of working moms. Damned (by guilt) if you do make time for yourself. And damned if you don’t. Eventually I start to feel like a rubber band getting stretched way too thin. It seems like only a matter of time before the inevitable snap.
Of course not every working mom is going to feel this beleaguered. Hopefully your job is not as hellacious and/or your child is not so demanding. And I imagine it’s probably a lot easier if you’re one of the lucky gals with loving parents in the vicinity.
But that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it…for now anyway.
The So-Called Life of a Working Mom
So a lot of people have asked me what it’s like to be a working mom.
Actually, that’s not true. No one has asked me that.
But you know, I bet people are somewhat curious. Because when I was considering whether to go back to work after maternity leave, I desperately wanted to know.
What is it like to leave your baby for hours at a time in a stranger’s care? Will you feel sad for missing all the ‘firsts’? Will it weaken the bond between the two of you? Will you be replaced as the most important person in your baby’s eyes?
I especially wanted to know what it would be like for a corporate attorney working mom. My job is notoriously un-plannable. We are on-call 24-7, 365, resulting in many cancelled vacations and telling my family every year--I might have to miss Christmas, start without me! When a deal is on, it is ON and you work night and day like kids in a sweatshop until the deal is done. If you need to fly out to another coast 3 weekends in a row to bash it out, you do it. Heck, if you need to fly to another continent to bash it out, you do that too.
How could I possibly be a somewhat present mom with a job like that?! On top of it all, I was a nursing Nazi. For some reason, I was fervently attached to the idea that my baby MUST DRINK MY MILK for at least one year. Anything less would feel utterly demoralizing. But let’s just say that high-stress and lactation do not mix. Making milk requires as much psychological conditioning as anything else. And who is going to let you take a pump-break in the middle of a 7 hour client meeting?!
The more I considered these obstacles looming ahead of me, the more I wanted to just throw in the towel and not go back to work. But the ever level-headed spouse reminded me that we really needed my income and it just might not be so bad. Why don’t we give it a try? If it’s really all that bad, I can quit. Anytime.
I looked at my $300 breast pump and thought, that’s going to be the dumbest investment I ever made. I’ll use it for 2 weeks and then quit. Well, it’s been more than a year since I’ve returned to work from maternity leave, so shut my mouth and color me surprised!
So what has it been like?
In a word: exhausting.
If ever in my life I have felt tested and stretched, it was laughably ridiculous compared to the unrelenting strain of working a high-stress corporate job and trying to be as present as possible with a high-need insatiably curious baby.
Being a working mom is like having 2 jobs. No, it IS having 2 jobs. You work all day with the stress and pressures of various project deadlines and then you come home and instead of winding down with a bowl of ice-cream and some Netflix, you jump right into the fire of your second job.
In my second job, the client was much more demanding and unreasonable than any in my corporate job. This client would scream and wail every time I tried to change his diapers, leaving trails of his poop everywhere as he wriggled and writhed. He refused to eat the nutritious food I slaved to make and screamed for crackers and chips. He threw his food on the floor repeatedly. He wanted you to carry his 23 lb body on long walks and screamed and wailed if you so much as hinted that you were going to drop him in a stroller. In fact he wanted to be carried all the time. Hoisted up so he could see the world from a different vantage point. And gesture that he wanted this and that PRONTO.
And finally, after you’ve engaged this little client in an epic bedtime battle and WON, you don’t even get to relish that sweet victory with some ice-cream and Netflix. Nope. You tiptoe out of his room and right to your desk and continue grinding out the mind-numbing draft for your other job. After working the night away, you brush your teeth and hop into bed, hoping and praying that insomnia does not rear its ugly head tonight.
What about the weekends? You don’t get weekends as a corporate lawyer.
So where in this narrative is exercise? Where is meeting up with friends? Where is going out with your hubby? Where are your hobbies? Where is your freaking bowl of ice-cream and next episode of Big Love?
It’s as poignantly absent as your sanity.
After living this kind of “so-called” life for a while, I had an epiphany--a beam of sunlight amidst the foggy clouds. Why don’t I just hire a babysitter and give myself some ME time? It’s worth spending a little cash to get back a little sanity.
And you know what? I can’t.
When I need a break the most, that’s the time I can’t do it the most.
I can’t spend any more time away from my baby.
Maybe everyone has a different equilibrium point after which they are happy to spend time away from their kid. In a given week, I don’t want to spend any more than 30 hours away from my baby. That’s why I work a 70% schedule.
But if work is killing me that week and making me put in 50+ hours, there’s no way in heck I’m going to take precious baby time away and do something for myself.
But I want so desperately to have some me time.
So there you have it. The catch-22 of working moms. Damned (by guilt) if you do make time for yourself. And damned if you don’t. Eventually I start to feel like a rubber band getting stretched way too thin. It seems like only a matter of time before the inevitable snap.
Of course not every working mom is going to feel this beleaguered. Hopefully your job is not as hellacious and/or your child is not so demanding. And I imagine it’s probably a lot easier if you’re one of the lucky gals with loving parents in the vicinity.
But that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it…for now anyway.
 |
| We're still hangin' in there...barely... |
Friday, June 22, 2012
High Careers and Babies Don't Mix, Part II
So now there's a media firestorm over this article (see my last blog post for the link cuz I'm too lazy to link it again). I just want to say 2 things about it.
First, thank you Anne-Marie Slaughter for publically voicing my own thoughts about the supposed awesomeness of women on the Supreme Court. It's not that awesome when you consider that 2 of the 3 do not have families.
Second, I completely agree that “Having control over your schedule is the only way that women who want to have a career and a family can make it work” (quote from the article, which quotes Mary Matalin).
The reason Ms. Slaughter could be so happy in her career and parenting (prior to her stint in government) was because she worked in academia, that beautiful edenic paradise which allows you to set your own hours for most of the time. If you want to go home at 5pm and resume work at 9pm, no problem. Academia will let you do that.
But enter the big bad world of client demands and client-set timelines, and you are in a world of hurt. And there is no more ruthless client than the corporate law client. Our clients, Fortune 500 companies, wait for no man or woman. They call you at 5pm Friday evening and demand a 30 hour work-product to be completed by 7 am Monday morning.
They schedule 10 am Sunday morning conference calls.
They make you work over Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They could care less that the new deadline falls right smack in the middle of your vacation plans.
And they have no qualms about asking you to work through the night.
But the BEST part of it all is not the sheer number of crazy-hours required--it's that it's all completely unplanned ahead of time. It's all a wonderful surprise! You thought you'd be free this weekend, but *surprise*! Your client calls you Friday evening with some lovely change of plans.
Recently a male partner and I were talking about how unreasonable client demands can be. He had just finished a major deal for Microsoft and was pretty annoyed at all the sudden all-nighters it required. It was especially annoying because he kept having to cancel plans with his kids that really disappointed them.
It's great to have partners that honestly vent about these kind of frustrations. But in the end, we both shrugged our shoulders cuz watchagonnado? This is the reality and expectation in the business climate of today. Technology has made our culture a 24-7 beast of constant connectivity.
Not only are lawyers expected to work around the clock at the drop of a hat, but in-house employees are being squeezed into the strait-jacket of constant availability.
There is really no more 'sacred' time.
And that's not just unhealthy for parenting, but for everyone.
First, thank you Anne-Marie Slaughter for publically voicing my own thoughts about the supposed awesomeness of women on the Supreme Court. It's not that awesome when you consider that 2 of the 3 do not have families.
Second, I completely agree that “Having control over your schedule is the only way that women who want to have a career and a family can make it work” (quote from the article, which quotes Mary Matalin).
The reason Ms. Slaughter could be so happy in her career and parenting (prior to her stint in government) was because she worked in academia, that beautiful edenic paradise which allows you to set your own hours for most of the time. If you want to go home at 5pm and resume work at 9pm, no problem. Academia will let you do that.
But enter the big bad world of client demands and client-set timelines, and you are in a world of hurt. And there is no more ruthless client than the corporate law client. Our clients, Fortune 500 companies, wait for no man or woman. They call you at 5pm Friday evening and demand a 30 hour work-product to be completed by 7 am Monday morning.
They schedule 10 am Sunday morning conference calls.
They make you work over Thanksgiving and Christmas.
They could care less that the new deadline falls right smack in the middle of your vacation plans.
And they have no qualms about asking you to work through the night.
But the BEST part of it all is not the sheer number of crazy-hours required--it's that it's all completely unplanned ahead of time. It's all a wonderful surprise! You thought you'd be free this weekend, but *surprise*! Your client calls you Friday evening with some lovely change of plans.
Recently a male partner and I were talking about how unreasonable client demands can be. He had just finished a major deal for Microsoft and was pretty annoyed at all the sudden all-nighters it required. It was especially annoying because he kept having to cancel plans with his kids that really disappointed them.
It's great to have partners that honestly vent about these kind of frustrations. But in the end, we both shrugged our shoulders cuz watchagonnado? This is the reality and expectation in the business climate of today. Technology has made our culture a 24-7 beast of constant connectivity.
Not only are lawyers expected to work around the clock at the drop of a hat, but in-house employees are being squeezed into the strait-jacket of constant availability.
There is really no more 'sacred' time.
And that's not just unhealthy for parenting, but for everyone.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
High Careers and Babies Don't Mix?
Within minutes of each other, 3 people 'sent' this article to me today:
Why Women Still Can't Have it All by Anne-Marie Slaughter (first woman director of policy planning at the State Department and Dean of Princeton's Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs)
Well, technically, only my hubby sent it to me.
The other 2 people (female law school classmates) 'shared' it on Facebook.
It's basically about her reflections on how motherhood and professional career success are incompatible, and perhaps irreconciliably so (yeah, I may have made up that word). I don't have time to write much on this right now, but talk amongst yourselves.
Women can NOT have it all...yes? No?
Why Women Still Can't Have it All by Anne-Marie Slaughter (first woman director of policy planning at the State Department and Dean of Princeton's Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs)
Well, technically, only my hubby sent it to me.
The other 2 people (female law school classmates) 'shared' it on Facebook.
It's basically about her reflections on how motherhood and professional career success are incompatible, and perhaps irreconciliably so (yeah, I may have made up that word). I don't have time to write much on this right now, but talk amongst yourselves.
Women can NOT have it all...yes? No?
Thursday, June 07, 2012
Sound and Fury
Last week was awful, awful, awful, awful.
Did I mention it was awful?
It is one thing to have clients tell you to work 10-12 hours on Saturday and Sunday.
But THEN to keep changing the major terms literally every hour so that all your hardwork has to be undone and redone.
And THEN to tell you a few hours before a Saturday meeting that it's been cancelled.
And THEN to tell you an hour later, it's been un-cancelled.
And then re-cancelled.
And then re-un-cancelled.
And then, finally re-re-cancelled.
And then to get on your Sunday telephone conference only to have your clients tell you they've changed the terms AGAIN. Well, actually, they're just considering changing them, they're not really sure...they're so undecided they cancel the rest of the 5 hour call after confessing in that first hour that they don't know what the heck they want to do.
I won't bore you with more details, but imagine a careening roller-coaster, with a bunch of puke on the seats, and no safety harness...that about sums it up.
I mean, HOW in the heck am I supposed to arrange childcare if I don't know if and when I'll be needed until literally a couple hours before I'm needed? I sadly don't have a live-in-nanny that can be summoned on a moment's notice. And the spouse works all Saturday. And if I hire someone, I can't just un-hire the person as soon as she arrives because suddenly my meetings have been cancelled. ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!
But the "best" part is that all the while I'm toiling away, missing my baby, getting frustrated at the constant change of plans, I know, I know deep within my bones, it's OBVIOUS, that this deal is NEVER going to happen.
We are running around like mad headless chicken for NOTHING.
The clients had ridiculously unrealistic timelines and unrealistic goals and it was NEVER going to happen. And in the end, it didn't happen. The deal was called off yesterday.
To be honest, I'm glad. If the deal had continued, it would've just meant more crazy hours and intense stress for a few more days (and probably missing out on another weekend with my family).
And oh how I've missed my little guy. I honestly don't know how partner-moms can do it. HOW do you not see your kids, but for an hour each day? How do you leave your kids for days at a time while you travel for work?
I know kids are malleable and they adjust. They learn to cling less to you and more to someone else. And I guess that's the trade-off partner-moms are willing (and probably happy) to make.
But I believe it comes with a price. If you abdicate your role as the major care-giver in your kid's life, you are also abdicating your role as the major moral-guide in his/her life as well. I read, and it makes sense intuitively, that kids will care about your values only to the extent they have a relationship with you. Hence the famous retort, "You can't tell me what to do. You're not my mother."
And those are words I never want to hear coming from my kid(s)!
Did I mention it was awful?
It is one thing to have clients tell you to work 10-12 hours on Saturday and Sunday.
But THEN to keep changing the major terms literally every hour so that all your hardwork has to be undone and redone.
And THEN to tell you a few hours before a Saturday meeting that it's been cancelled.
And THEN to tell you an hour later, it's been un-cancelled.
And then re-cancelled.
And then re-un-cancelled.
And then, finally re-re-cancelled.
And then to get on your Sunday telephone conference only to have your clients tell you they've changed the terms AGAIN. Well, actually, they're just considering changing them, they're not really sure...they're so undecided they cancel the rest of the 5 hour call after confessing in that first hour that they don't know what the heck they want to do.
I won't bore you with more details, but imagine a careening roller-coaster, with a bunch of puke on the seats, and no safety harness...that about sums it up.
I mean, HOW in the heck am I supposed to arrange childcare if I don't know if and when I'll be needed until literally a couple hours before I'm needed? I sadly don't have a live-in-nanny that can be summoned on a moment's notice. And the spouse works all Saturday. And if I hire someone, I can't just un-hire the person as soon as she arrives because suddenly my meetings have been cancelled. ARRRGGGHHHH!!!!
But the "best" part is that all the while I'm toiling away, missing my baby, getting frustrated at the constant change of plans, I know, I know deep within my bones, it's OBVIOUS, that this deal is NEVER going to happen.
We are running around like mad headless chicken for NOTHING.
The clients had ridiculously unrealistic timelines and unrealistic goals and it was NEVER going to happen. And in the end, it didn't happen. The deal was called off yesterday.
To be honest, I'm glad. If the deal had continued, it would've just meant more crazy hours and intense stress for a few more days (and probably missing out on another weekend with my family).
And oh how I've missed my little guy. I honestly don't know how partner-moms can do it. HOW do you not see your kids, but for an hour each day? How do you leave your kids for days at a time while you travel for work?
I know kids are malleable and they adjust. They learn to cling less to you and more to someone else. And I guess that's the trade-off partner-moms are willing (and probably happy) to make.
But I believe it comes with a price. If you abdicate your role as the major care-giver in your kid's life, you are also abdicating your role as the major moral-guide in his/her life as well. I read, and it makes sense intuitively, that kids will care about your values only to the extent they have a relationship with you. Hence the famous retort, "You can't tell me what to do. You're not my mother."
And those are words I never want to hear coming from my kid(s)!
Monday, May 28, 2012
Weekend From Hell
Last weekend the dreadful work project that I was warned about finally hit my shores.
The clients gave us instructions to start drafting Friday at 4pm. The deadline for the first draft was Monday morning. It was a project that would take about 35 hours, if you worked at a reasonable pace.
So let's do the math, 35 hours of work crammed over Friday night, Saturday and Sunday. NOOOOOOO!
Of course I had a panic attack at 2am on Friday and couldn't sleep the rest of the night--adrenaline coursing through my veins like I was being chased by a pack of wolves.
But working all weekend was not the worst part by a long shot. The worst part was missing my baby. I saw so little of him over the weekend (and so little in the subsequent week days due to continued crazy late work schedules) that he's started to get really clingy.
He'll howl if I leave the room. He won't let his dad hold him or feed him if I'm in the room. And, worst of all, he's completely regressed in his bedtime behavior.
For over 5 months now, we've had it VERY good. I'd nurse him a little and then he would lean and point toward his crib and voluntarily suggest that I put him in his crib to sleep. "Crib, sleep," he would say. "Bye-bye," he would tell me as I lowered him in. Every. Single. Day. It was awesome!
But just this last week he completely changed. As I put him in his crib he started howling "NOOOOO! Sleeeeeeep! Mooooooommy!" (meaning: I want to sleep on Mommy, not in the crib by myself.)
He cried for 15 minutes until the Spouse went to comfort him and stealthily sneak him in his crib, deeply asleep.
Sigh, guess it's back to the old sleep-training drawing board for Judah!
The clients gave us instructions to start drafting Friday at 4pm. The deadline for the first draft was Monday morning. It was a project that would take about 35 hours, if you worked at a reasonable pace.
So let's do the math, 35 hours of work crammed over Friday night, Saturday and Sunday. NOOOOOOO!
 |
| Thank goodness for daddy day-care. Judah and dad had lots of bonding time over little cars. |
Of course I had a panic attack at 2am on Friday and couldn't sleep the rest of the night--adrenaline coursing through my veins like I was being chased by a pack of wolves.
But working all weekend was not the worst part by a long shot. The worst part was missing my baby. I saw so little of him over the weekend (and so little in the subsequent week days due to continued crazy late work schedules) that he's started to get really clingy.
He'll howl if I leave the room. He won't let his dad hold him or feed him if I'm in the room. And, worst of all, he's completely regressed in his bedtime behavior.
For over 5 months now, we've had it VERY good. I'd nurse him a little and then he would lean and point toward his crib and voluntarily suggest that I put him in his crib to sleep. "Crib, sleep," he would say. "Bye-bye," he would tell me as I lowered him in. Every. Single. Day. It was awesome!
But just this last week he completely changed. As I put him in his crib he started howling "NOOOOO! Sleeeeeeep! Mooooooommy!" (meaning: I want to sleep on Mommy, not in the crib by myself.)
He cried for 15 minutes until the Spouse went to comfort him and stealthily sneak him in his crib, deeply asleep.
Sigh, guess it's back to the old sleep-training drawing board for Judah!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Legally Moms
Guess who's a MILP now?
Yep, that would be me! (Not to be confused with MILF).
MILP is a blogging circle that stands for Mothers in the Legal Profession, which I think is awesome for several reasons. Mostly, because being a MILP is HARD. It almost feels like the legal world was created for people with no family ties who can jump on a plane at the drop of a hat or pull an all-day-all-weekend-all-nighter without breaking a sweat.
When I was a preggo considering all this (many moons ago), I wish I had heard about this circle of bloggers sooner so I could get some valuable real-life 411. And now, I feel obligated to post more about the intersection between momhood and law jobs...or just law in general...I just noticed I never write about law stuff...
Hmmm, a bit in denial perhaps...
Yep, that would be me! (Not to be confused with MILF).
MILP is a blogging circle that stands for Mothers in the Legal Profession, which I think is awesome for several reasons. Mostly, because being a MILP is HARD. It almost feels like the legal world was created for people with no family ties who can jump on a plane at the drop of a hat or pull an all-day-all-weekend-all-nighter without breaking a sweat.
When I was a preggo considering all this (many moons ago), I wish I had heard about this circle of bloggers sooner so I could get some valuable real-life 411. And now, I feel obligated to post more about the intersection between momhood and law jobs...or just law in general...I just noticed I never write about law stuff...
Hmmm, a bit in denial perhaps...
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Want to know what I REALLY do at work?
I morbidly joked on FB that my job is like an abusive boyfriend--beating me up all the time but then giving me just enough compensation to make me reluctantly stay in this awful relationship.
I've been through some horrible projects, but this most recent one, the wounds fresh in my mind, has got to be up there in the top 3 horrible projects of all time.
This monstrosity began innocently enough, 6 months ago, as one giant 200 page contract that yours truly had to meticulously draft. Think about that. In and of itself, that's already pretty sad and onerous. Have you ever read the fine print on your credit card statement? Neither have I. But I read reams and reams of that same dry legalese everyday--200 pages worth for this particular beast.
But, that's not even the tip of the TIP of the iceberg of pain.
So after weeks of pain and a final push that involved 15 hour days, tons of weekend work, missing my little guy for a couple days--Contract #1 was signed and sealed.
And then the real pain began. Our lovely clients decided they wanted to do Contract #2, which would be the mirror-image of Contract #1. Like some corporate version of musical chairs, the parties switched roles and each assumed the other's position from the previous contract...but not quite. Some things were different. Actually, many things were different. So many, that the negotiations devolved into bickering that sounded exactly like this:
"But that's not how we did it in Contract #1."
"I know, but that's because Contract #1 is not exactly analogous to Contract #2"
"We want everything to be symmetrical!"
"But not everything should be. It's a slightly different deal."
Back and forth it went. I drafted another monster 200-page contract. And then I revised it. And then I revised it again. And again. And again. Until I think I've memorized every word on that horrible 200-page beast. Oh, but it was a joy to revise (note the sarcasm) because every time I revised it I had to check it against Contract #1 to make sure it was analogous where it was supposed to be, and not analogous where it wasn't supposed to be. I know even reading about my travails in a nutshell is boring and meticulous--but, wait, there's more goodies!
Enter--Contract #3! This one was supposed to be exactly like Contract #1, except with a different counter-party. And everything was supposed to be the same, except it was slightly different. Oh, those slight differences bring all the life to the party--oh those multitude of slight nuances that just make me want to stick a fork in my eye. Lovely.
So now, are you keeping track? There are 2 thorny and very confusingly similar deals going on--Contract #2 and Contract #3. How can this get any better you ask?
Why, the clients want to amend Contract #1! Joy oh joy! That horrible beast that started it all gets a second life. This deal was turning out to be like the many headed hydra of Hercules. You think you've killed it, but it rises again! So all the sweat, tears and pain was for nothing. We had to undertake to completely overhaul Contract #1...so in effect, it's like Contract #4.
Mind you, this is not done in a calm, friendly, office environment. This is all done under extreme time pressure. This is the kind of messages my boss sends me (subliminally and sometimes not so subliminally):
"Hurry, hurry, hurry!!!!!! But don't you dare have any mistakes in this draft! No missing commas, periods, mispelled words! Every section reference must be correct (there are literally more than 500 in each doc and they constantly shift around)! Every footer, header, pagination, index, appendix, exhibit must be perfect! Don't you dare misinterpret my very vague instructions about drafting this complex concept that I haven't had the time to explain to you! And every utterance of the client must be reflected in the draft--go back through your 47 client email chains over the span of 2 weeks and make sure everything gets correctly reflected in the draft!"
Of course I slack off where I can. Spending an extra hour with my sweet baby is so much more important to me than proofreading the document a 3rd time before it goes out. So I frequently get lovely emails from my boss that say things like: You missed this, you missed that, you didn't draft this correctly. This is weak. And the subject line to the emails are wonderful too. One of them simply said "Frustration" and the body said, "I'm getting really frustrated at you!"
You know things have gotten really bad when the boss regularly just assumes what you did was wrong, even though it's actually right. I've corrected her many times. But it just goes to show that she's lost all confidence in my work. My 200 page contracts are indeed riddled with wrong section references and mispelled words. These, by the way, are like cockroaches. For every one you see, there are probably 15 that you don't. My boss routinely catches about 3 in each of my drafts. And she assumes there are at least 20 that she doesn't know about.
Frankly, I find it annoying that I have to deal with stupid typographical nits when I'm also responsible for the heavy-duty substance of the draft. EXCUSE ME for not finding that missing comma. I was busy making sure the indemnity clause covers any clinical trials we do with x and y active pharmaceutical ingredients, instead of just x and z, but only during the period before we get marketing approval from the FDA and EMA for drug w and only with respect to losses arising from manufacturing defects in x. In other words, I have bigger fish to fry than worrying about your stupid commas!!!
Now, all the time pressure, aggravation, and headache would be fine and dandy if it occurred Monday through Friday during the hours of 9am to 5pm. I don't even mind the fact that I haven't eaten a proper lunch in 6 months. I will happily eat stupid balance bars at my desk every day for the rest of my life, if only I could keep the work contained between the hours of 9 to 5.
But of course not. It goes on 24-7. I'm frequently not allowed to go to sleep unless my boss gives me permission. 9 out of 10 days I put the baby to sleep at 8:26pm and by 8:30 I am logged in and drafting up some odious provision about regulatory meetings. I turn off the computer at 10:30pm and try to sleep immediately, but of course, I can't. Baby wakes me up at 6:30am. I go to work. Rinse and repeat.
And believe or not, those are the good days.
The bad days are when I am stuck in the office and only see my baby for 30 minutes. I work until midnight and wake up at 5:30am for a conference call.
Right before a signing deadline, there are MANY bad days. Mentally, it should be okay because you tell yourself--the darker the night, the nearer the dawn. I will give it all I've got for this one final push and this horrible weight will be lifted from my shoulder once and for all. It's just like giving birth to a baby--the worst pain of your life, but a great reward at the end.
But that was not to be with Contract #2 and amending Contract #1.
There was deadline #1--GREAT PUSH, HORRIBLE HOURS, WORK 15 HOUR DAYS FOR A WEEK--oh crap, 1 hour before the deadline we realize we're not going to be able to make the deadline. Extend the deadline.
Deadline #2--GREAT PUSH, HORRIBLE HOURS, POOP ON MY WEEK AND ENTIRE WEEKEND--oh crap, 2 hours before the deadline we realize we're not going to be able to make it. Extended.
Deadline #3--GREAT PUSH...you get the idea. Extension! Lovely!
Deadline #4--didn't make it either. Oops.
Deadline #5!!!! This is the real one guys! Really? Pardon me if I'm a leeeetle bit skeptical.
But no. Deadline #5 was the real one. After 6 months of awful awful awfulness these horrible suite of contracts have finally been put to bed. The contracts are dated November 15, 2011 and signatures are being exchanged as I type this very sentence.
I'm am foggy brained and bleary eyed from waking up at 5:30am for a conference call. But I had to write this all down so I never forget the epic grossness of this horrible horrible project.
By the way, in case you're wondering what profession to steer your children away from, I'm a corporate lawyer.
I've been through some horrible projects, but this most recent one, the wounds fresh in my mind, has got to be up there in the top 3 horrible projects of all time.
This monstrosity began innocently enough, 6 months ago, as one giant 200 page contract that yours truly had to meticulously draft. Think about that. In and of itself, that's already pretty sad and onerous. Have you ever read the fine print on your credit card statement? Neither have I. But I read reams and reams of that same dry legalese everyday--200 pages worth for this particular beast.
But, that's not even the tip of the TIP of the iceberg of pain.
So after weeks of pain and a final push that involved 15 hour days, tons of weekend work, missing my little guy for a couple days--Contract #1 was signed and sealed.
And then the real pain began. Our lovely clients decided they wanted to do Contract #2, which would be the mirror-image of Contract #1. Like some corporate version of musical chairs, the parties switched roles and each assumed the other's position from the previous contract...but not quite. Some things were different. Actually, many things were different. So many, that the negotiations devolved into bickering that sounded exactly like this:
"But that's not how we did it in Contract #1."
"I know, but that's because Contract #1 is not exactly analogous to Contract #2"
"We want everything to be symmetrical!"
"But not everything should be. It's a slightly different deal."
Back and forth it went. I drafted another monster 200-page contract. And then I revised it. And then I revised it again. And again. And again. Until I think I've memorized every word on that horrible 200-page beast. Oh, but it was a joy to revise (note the sarcasm) because every time I revised it I had to check it against Contract #1 to make sure it was analogous where it was supposed to be, and not analogous where it wasn't supposed to be. I know even reading about my travails in a nutshell is boring and meticulous--but, wait, there's more goodies!
Enter--Contract #3! This one was supposed to be exactly like Contract #1, except with a different counter-party. And everything was supposed to be the same, except it was slightly different. Oh, those slight differences bring all the life to the party--oh those multitude of slight nuances that just make me want to stick a fork in my eye. Lovely.
So now, are you keeping track? There are 2 thorny and very confusingly similar deals going on--Contract #2 and Contract #3. How can this get any better you ask?
Why, the clients want to amend Contract #1! Joy oh joy! That horrible beast that started it all gets a second life. This deal was turning out to be like the many headed hydra of Hercules. You think you've killed it, but it rises again! So all the sweat, tears and pain was for nothing. We had to undertake to completely overhaul Contract #1...so in effect, it's like Contract #4.
Mind you, this is not done in a calm, friendly, office environment. This is all done under extreme time pressure. This is the kind of messages my boss sends me (subliminally and sometimes not so subliminally):
"Hurry, hurry, hurry!!!!!! But don't you dare have any mistakes in this draft! No missing commas, periods, mispelled words! Every section reference must be correct (there are literally more than 500 in each doc and they constantly shift around)! Every footer, header, pagination, index, appendix, exhibit must be perfect! Don't you dare misinterpret my very vague instructions about drafting this complex concept that I haven't had the time to explain to you! And every utterance of the client must be reflected in the draft--go back through your 47 client email chains over the span of 2 weeks and make sure everything gets correctly reflected in the draft!"
Of course I slack off where I can. Spending an extra hour with my sweet baby is so much more important to me than proofreading the document a 3rd time before it goes out. So I frequently get lovely emails from my boss that say things like: You missed this, you missed that, you didn't draft this correctly. This is weak. And the subject line to the emails are wonderful too. One of them simply said "Frustration" and the body said, "I'm getting really frustrated at you!"
You know things have gotten really bad when the boss regularly just assumes what you did was wrong, even though it's actually right. I've corrected her many times. But it just goes to show that she's lost all confidence in my work. My 200 page contracts are indeed riddled with wrong section references and mispelled words. These, by the way, are like cockroaches. For every one you see, there are probably 15 that you don't. My boss routinely catches about 3 in each of my drafts. And she assumes there are at least 20 that she doesn't know about.
Frankly, I find it annoying that I have to deal with stupid typographical nits when I'm also responsible for the heavy-duty substance of the draft. EXCUSE ME for not finding that missing comma. I was busy making sure the indemnity clause covers any clinical trials we do with x and y active pharmaceutical ingredients, instead of just x and z, but only during the period before we get marketing approval from the FDA and EMA for drug w and only with respect to losses arising from manufacturing defects in x. In other words, I have bigger fish to fry than worrying about your stupid commas!!!
Now, all the time pressure, aggravation, and headache would be fine and dandy if it occurred Monday through Friday during the hours of 9am to 5pm. I don't even mind the fact that I haven't eaten a proper lunch in 6 months. I will happily eat stupid balance bars at my desk every day for the rest of my life, if only I could keep the work contained between the hours of 9 to 5.
But of course not. It goes on 24-7. I'm frequently not allowed to go to sleep unless my boss gives me permission. 9 out of 10 days I put the baby to sleep at 8:26pm and by 8:30 I am logged in and drafting up some odious provision about regulatory meetings. I turn off the computer at 10:30pm and try to sleep immediately, but of course, I can't. Baby wakes me up at 6:30am. I go to work. Rinse and repeat.
And believe or not, those are the good days.
The bad days are when I am stuck in the office and only see my baby for 30 minutes. I work until midnight and wake up at 5:30am for a conference call.
Right before a signing deadline, there are MANY bad days. Mentally, it should be okay because you tell yourself--the darker the night, the nearer the dawn. I will give it all I've got for this one final push and this horrible weight will be lifted from my shoulder once and for all. It's just like giving birth to a baby--the worst pain of your life, but a great reward at the end.
But that was not to be with Contract #2 and amending Contract #1.
There was deadline #1--GREAT PUSH, HORRIBLE HOURS, WORK 15 HOUR DAYS FOR A WEEK--oh crap, 1 hour before the deadline we realize we're not going to be able to make the deadline. Extend the deadline.
Deadline #2--GREAT PUSH, HORRIBLE HOURS, POOP ON MY WEEK AND ENTIRE WEEKEND--oh crap, 2 hours before the deadline we realize we're not going to be able to make it. Extended.
Deadline #3--GREAT PUSH...you get the idea. Extension! Lovely!
Deadline #4--didn't make it either. Oops.
Deadline #5!!!! This is the real one guys! Really? Pardon me if I'm a leeeetle bit skeptical.
But no. Deadline #5 was the real one. After 6 months of awful awful awfulness these horrible suite of contracts have finally been put to bed. The contracts are dated November 15, 2011 and signatures are being exchanged as I type this very sentence.
I'm am foggy brained and bleary eyed from waking up at 5:30am for a conference call. But I had to write this all down so I never forget the epic grossness of this horrible horrible project.
By the way, in case you're wondering what profession to steer your children away from, I'm a corporate lawyer.
Friday, March 04, 2011
I'm Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack!
And I got a boob job, tummy tuck, and brain lobotomy.
Not really, but it might appear that way to my work colleagues whom I haven't seen since I was 9 months pregnant and ready to burst.
So I started work for 2 days this week and here are the highlights (and lowlights):
--Man am I tired. I'm so not used to it all. After just 1 hour at work, I seriously wanted a nap.
--It feels oddly like I never left. Just woke up from a long dream in which I had a baby and tended to him all day long.
--My brain is total mush. Many times during the day I wanted to ask my boss to please talk slower and could you repeat that? But luckily had the presence of mind not to!
--I feel guilty about not being there to nurse Judah. Somehow I feel like nursing is his birthright, ha.
--The first day I came home, Judah was so happy to see me he kept laughing and smiling while he nursed. This caused his mouth to back up with milk, which he sputtered in my face while laughing.
--The second day I came home, he acted like it was no big deal. Maybe I'm hypersensitive, but I wondered if he was mad at me.
--Had a major wardrobe malfunction. I won't go into detail, but lets just say it involved my boss pointing out to me that my bra was totally showing and me looking down and realizing my shirt was also totally stained with milk leaks. Learn from my mistake--never ever wear a new bra for your first day of work.
--My boss is the best boss I could possibly hope to have as a working mom. She's committed to helping me work a truly 60% schedule and she has 2 kids of her own so she's really sympathetic to the whole work/life balance thing.
--And the most bizarre thing of all: I realized I actually missed work.
Not really, but it might appear that way to my work colleagues whom I haven't seen since I was 9 months pregnant and ready to burst.
So I started work for 2 days this week and here are the highlights (and lowlights):
--Man am I tired. I'm so not used to it all. After just 1 hour at work, I seriously wanted a nap.
--It feels oddly like I never left. Just woke up from a long dream in which I had a baby and tended to him all day long.
--My brain is total mush. Many times during the day I wanted to ask my boss to please talk slower and could you repeat that? But luckily had the presence of mind not to!
--I feel guilty about not being there to nurse Judah. Somehow I feel like nursing is his birthright, ha.
--The first day I came home, Judah was so happy to see me he kept laughing and smiling while he nursed. This caused his mouth to back up with milk, which he sputtered in my face while laughing.
--The second day I came home, he acted like it was no big deal. Maybe I'm hypersensitive, but I wondered if he was mad at me.
--Had a major wardrobe malfunction. I won't go into detail, but lets just say it involved my boss pointing out to me that my bra was totally showing and me looking down and realizing my shirt was also totally stained with milk leaks. Learn from my mistake--never ever wear a new bra for your first day of work.
--My boss is the best boss I could possibly hope to have as a working mom. She's committed to helping me work a truly 60% schedule and she has 2 kids of her own so she's really sympathetic to the whole work/life balance thing.
--And the most bizarre thing of all: I realized I actually missed work.
Saturday, July 17, 2010
The Upside of Masochism
A lot of things in life are disappointing once you actually get them. After fervent anticipation, the actual experience just never quite lives up to the hype. (And yes, that's what I plan to tell my future teenagers about the birds and the bees).
But maternity leave is NOT one of those things. The last few days I've been at home, nesting like a crazy woman, being busier than ever, but also being happier than ever.
Despite all the chores and baby prep--re-arranging furniture, organizing onesies by size, taking hospital tours, reading about colic and indigestion, etc. etc., I can only describe my state of being as...blissful.
I'm pretty sure it's all due to the absence of corporate work. I had no idea what a mental and emotional tax my work was until it went away.
It's like I'm living out that old adage--Why do I hit myself with a hammer all day? Cuz it feels so good when I stop.
It really does. It feels. So. Good.
But maternity leave is NOT one of those things. The last few days I've been at home, nesting like a crazy woman, being busier than ever, but also being happier than ever.
Despite all the chores and baby prep--re-arranging furniture, organizing onesies by size, taking hospital tours, reading about colic and indigestion, etc. etc., I can only describe my state of being as...blissful.
I'm pretty sure it's all due to the absence of corporate work. I had no idea what a mental and emotional tax my work was until it went away.
It's like I'm living out that old adage--Why do I hit myself with a hammer all day? Cuz it feels so good when I stop.
It really does. It feels. So. Good.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Pwnage #5: Oh maternity leave, how I long for you
It started Thursday. I thought I could go to Bible study in the evening, but just as I was leaving the office at 5:20pm the client sent us the draft. Perfect timing! (for ruining my plans).
I worked until 10:30 that night on the draft. The funny thing is, all throughout the day, I was forecasting to the spouse whether or not I could make it to the Bible study. The morning started with a 90% chance No :-(. Then around 4pm I realized my workload was lighter than I thought and it became 90% Yes :-)! And then at 5:20, it was 100% No. I'm more volatile than the Dow! Heck, than the market of the least stable country out there!--Greece?
Friday, I worked from 8am to 11pm.
Saturday, I ran errands all day, including taking a 7 hour birthing class. Fun. (That's sarcasm).
Sunday, I unexpectedly worked all day (after church) until 10pm. Key word being "unexpectedly."
All these surprise attacks have inspired me to write this haiku:
Little flashing light
On my blackberry causes
Me fear and nausea
I worked until 10:30 that night on the draft. The funny thing is, all throughout the day, I was forecasting to the spouse whether or not I could make it to the Bible study. The morning started with a 90% chance No :-(. Then around 4pm I realized my workload was lighter than I thought and it became 90% Yes :-)! And then at 5:20, it was 100% No. I'm more volatile than the Dow! Heck, than the market of the least stable country out there!--Greece?
Friday, I worked from 8am to 11pm.
Saturday, I ran errands all day, including taking a 7 hour birthing class. Fun. (That's sarcasm).
Sunday, I unexpectedly worked all day (after church) until 10pm. Key word being "unexpectedly."
All these surprise attacks have inspired me to write this haiku:
Little flashing light
On my blackberry causes
Me fear and nausea
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Pwnage #4: Memorial Weekend Edition
This weekend is full of suspense.
Although work has taken up a good chunk of my Saturday, there is a chance that work might swallow up even more days!
The delightful (that's sarcasm) thing is that I just don't know. The boss said the client MAY need us to do stuff on Sunday or Monday. Keep an eye on the blackberry.
So just like that, work has managed to completely straddle my weekend with its hulking shadow. The sword of Demosthenes dangles over me precariously. At least I can hope that it will just be an empty threat. Fingers crossed.
I've had so many pwnages so close together I've become a little numb. Kind of like victims of repeated assault. You just close your eyes and passively let it happen without even struggling. What's the point?
Although work has taken up a good chunk of my Saturday, there is a chance that work might swallow up even more days!
The delightful (that's sarcasm) thing is that I just don't know. The boss said the client MAY need us to do stuff on Sunday or Monday. Keep an eye on the blackberry.
So just like that, work has managed to completely straddle my weekend with its hulking shadow. The sword of Demosthenes dangles over me precariously. At least I can hope that it will just be an empty threat. Fingers crossed.
I've had so many pwnages so close together I've become a little numb. Kind of like victims of repeated assault. You just close your eyes and passively let it happen without even struggling. What's the point?
Monday, May 10, 2010
Pwnage #3--The Tsunami Strikes
This pwnage was so deep and devastating I haven’t even been able to blog about it until a full week after. It started mid-week, crescendo-ed to a frenzy on Saturday, and slowly ebbed out to sea sometime on Friday of the next week.
I’m still suffering from PTSD.
I especially resented the Saturday pwnage since the assignment came literally, Friday night at 11:30 pm and was due Saturday night. And, of course, it was the equivalent of at least 3 days’ work crammed into one (read: I was stressed out of my mind). Towards the end of Saturday I had devolved into a pile of bitter primordial goop, muttering curses to myself under my breath every 10 seconds like a mentally deranged person with tourettes. Not pretty.
Although I know that many litigation associates work much longer hours than I do, it’s really not the same. As a corporate associate, as I’ve emphasized many a time to my litigating counterparts, YOU CAN’T PREDICT WHAT’S COMING. There are no schedules, no fixed court deadlines, absolutely no way to plan. That makes everything at least 10 times more miserable and a lose-lose situation almost every time.
Take any given Saturday. If I DON’T plan anything, I may discover that I actually HAD time and COULD’VE done something. If I DO plan something, I may discover that I have to cancel.
You just can’t win. Either way, you’re going to kick yourself. How do people live like this?!?!
I’m still suffering from PTSD.
I especially resented the Saturday pwnage since the assignment came literally, Friday night at 11:30 pm and was due Saturday night. And, of course, it was the equivalent of at least 3 days’ work crammed into one (read: I was stressed out of my mind). Towards the end of Saturday I had devolved into a pile of bitter primordial goop, muttering curses to myself under my breath every 10 seconds like a mentally deranged person with tourettes. Not pretty.
Although I know that many litigation associates work much longer hours than I do, it’s really not the same. As a corporate associate, as I’ve emphasized many a time to my litigating counterparts, YOU CAN’T PREDICT WHAT’S COMING. There are no schedules, no fixed court deadlines, absolutely no way to plan. That makes everything at least 10 times more miserable and a lose-lose situation almost every time.
Take any given Saturday. If I DON’T plan anything, I may discover that I actually HAD time and COULD’VE done something. If I DO plan something, I may discover that I have to cancel.
You just can’t win. Either way, you’re going to kick yourself. How do people live like this?!?!
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Pwnage #2 of 2010
And, soon after the March 26th first pwnage of the year, comes the second.
This Friday (and NOT before then), I found out I had a tight Saturday night deadline. I worked until 10pm on Friday and from 9am to 11:30pm on Saturday, and barely made it. Just barely.
So far, statistically speaking, pwnages come when I've got major plans for the weekend. The first one dropped when I was supposed to drive an hour away to celebrate my grandfather and dad's birthdays which happened to be on the same day. This second one happened when I had lined up some fantastic eating opportunities with friends and a hobby class.
I'm expecting a third pwnage soon since I've been warned that I've been put on 3 big ugly projects simultaneously. But, it wouldn't be a pwnage if you KNEW when they would hit and exactly what your crazy schedule would be. No, that would just be called "having a lot of work to do." In true pwn-like fashion, these projects are massive, but I have NO IDEA when they will happen, what schedule I'll be on, and thus, what personal plans I can or cannot keep.
That whooshing you hear is the sound of my soul being flushed down the toilet.
This Friday (and NOT before then), I found out I had a tight Saturday night deadline. I worked until 10pm on Friday and from 9am to 11:30pm on Saturday, and barely made it. Just barely.
So far, statistically speaking, pwnages come when I've got major plans for the weekend. The first one dropped when I was supposed to drive an hour away to celebrate my grandfather and dad's birthdays which happened to be on the same day. This second one happened when I had lined up some fantastic eating opportunities with friends and a hobby class.
I'm expecting a third pwnage soon since I've been warned that I've been put on 3 big ugly projects simultaneously. But, it wouldn't be a pwnage if you KNEW when they would hit and exactly what your crazy schedule would be. No, that would just be called "having a lot of work to do." In true pwn-like fashion, these projects are massive, but I have NO IDEA when they will happen, what schedule I'll be on, and thus, what personal plans I can or cannot keep.
That whooshing you hear is the sound of my soul being flushed down the toilet.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Peon-0; Firm-1
I've decided to keep score.
I'm going to count and record all the times my job unexpectedly pwns my weekend or vacation.
Last weekend is Pwnage #1 of 2010. I got a warning Friday morning that an assignment will drop in my inbox at around 5pm that day. And I'll, unfortunately, have to work for about 10 hours on the weekend to finish it up.
The irony is the document did not come in Friday night. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. But I still cleared my schedule and lived like I was under house arrest.
Okay, truth be told, it wasn't that bad. I still went shopping, played board games, visited a friend, and ran errands. But if the circumstances were different, it could've been a total disaster!
In other news--I got really depressed this weekend thinking about how my days of freedom and frolicking on a whim are soon to be over. With an infant, it will no longer be possible to live a care-free, unfettered existence. :-(
I'm going to count and record all the times my job unexpectedly pwns my weekend or vacation.
Last weekend is Pwnage #1 of 2010. I got a warning Friday morning that an assignment will drop in my inbox at around 5pm that day. And I'll, unfortunately, have to work for about 10 hours on the weekend to finish it up.
The irony is the document did not come in Friday night. Or Saturday. Or Sunday. But I still cleared my schedule and lived like I was under house arrest.
Okay, truth be told, it wasn't that bad. I still went shopping, played board games, visited a friend, and ran errands. But if the circumstances were different, it could've been a total disaster!
In other news--I got really depressed this weekend thinking about how my days of freedom and frolicking on a whim are soon to be over. With an infant, it will no longer be possible to live a care-free, unfettered existence. :-(
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The Letter D
Today's outfit is brought to you by the letter D.
"D" stands for depressed, despair, and done gave up.
I'm not even pretending to care about looking office-appropriate today. Usually I'll try to have at least one structured article to differentiate how I look at home v. how I look at work--but not today.
I have a soft t-shirt on made out of pajama-like materials.
I'm wearing black knit pants--the kind soccer moms buy from Land's End to workout in or run errands.
I topped it all with a cozy over-sized sweater coat.
And nothing says "I don't care" like my glasses and greasy hair.
4 days of 14 hour-a-day work and voila. You win! I've lost all will to look cute or professional.
"D" stands for depressed, despair, and done gave up.
I'm not even pretending to care about looking office-appropriate today. Usually I'll try to have at least one structured article to differentiate how I look at home v. how I look at work--but not today.
I have a soft t-shirt on made out of pajama-like materials.
I'm wearing black knit pants--the kind soccer moms buy from Land's End to workout in or run errands.
I topped it all with a cozy over-sized sweater coat.
And nothing says "I don't care" like my glasses and greasy hair.
4 days of 14 hour-a-day work and voila. You win! I've lost all will to look cute or professional.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
**Dispatch from the frontlines of the corporate firm world
1800 hours
Death by a thousand papercuts ensues.
I have become a drafting machine.
I eat, drink, pee and draft. That is all I do for 14 hours a day.
Provisions in the barracks (read: office) have been replenished with almonds and chocolate.
When will this barrage of work cease? It has lasted for a record 3 months now and no real end in sight.
Must take vacation before more work gets piled on.
Alice out.
Death by a thousand papercuts ensues.
I have become a drafting machine.
I eat, drink, pee and draft. That is all I do for 14 hours a day.
Provisions in the barracks (read: office) have been replenished with almonds and chocolate.
When will this barrage of work cease? It has lasted for a record 3 months now and no real end in sight.
Must take vacation before more work gets piled on.
Alice out.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Life in the Whatever Lane
For the last four weeks I was about to go out of my mind with fear, anxiety, boredom, and stress because I had no billable projects to work on.
Each day I felt redundant, useless, and completely expendable and, not to mention ignored and unwanted by my employer.
I felt so awful I even started to work 10 hour days, trying to fill my time with "value-adding" activities in a haberdash attempt to shield my neck from the chopping block.
And sometime mid-last-week the tide turned completely. A project, like manna from heaven, dropped on my desk (or rather, my email inbox) and I was up to my eye-ball in work, work, work. I got to work early (well, early for me) and I stayed well after the cleaning lady emptied my office trash bucket.
And as soon as this project is done, I will be on another one, already scheduled and ready to take over my life for the next 2-3 weeks. I'm sad I may have to "miss" Mother's Day.
What kind of a life is it where you're either worried out of your mind about being fired or stressed out of your mind about getting your work done?
What kind of existence do you have when you feel incompetent and inadequate all the time--either because you have no work or because you don't know how to do the work you have?
How can you live day to day not knowing whether tomorrow will bring rain or shine, drought or flood, feast or famine? How can you ever make plans that you care about?!
I feel like an automoton, a half-life, a zombie undead with no control over the where, what, how and whens of my life.
Each day I felt redundant, useless, and completely expendable and, not to mention ignored and unwanted by my employer.
I felt so awful I even started to work 10 hour days, trying to fill my time with "value-adding" activities in a haberdash attempt to shield my neck from the chopping block.
And sometime mid-last-week the tide turned completely. A project, like manna from heaven, dropped on my desk (or rather, my email inbox) and I was up to my eye-ball in work, work, work. I got to work early (well, early for me) and I stayed well after the cleaning lady emptied my office trash bucket.
And as soon as this project is done, I will be on another one, already scheduled and ready to take over my life for the next 2-3 weeks. I'm sad I may have to "miss" Mother's Day.
What kind of a life is it where you're either worried out of your mind about being fired or stressed out of your mind about getting your work done?
What kind of existence do you have when you feel incompetent and inadequate all the time--either because you have no work or because you don't know how to do the work you have?
How can you live day to day not knowing whether tomorrow will bring rain or shine, drought or flood, feast or famine? How can you ever make plans that you care about?!
I feel like an automoton, a half-life, a zombie undead with no control over the where, what, how and whens of my life.
Monday, February 16, 2009
On-Call
I'm so tired of being on-call. Endlessly available.
I'm so tired of living in a bubble of independence so that at a moment's notice, as soon as my blackberry summons me forth, I'm ready. Ready to review that document, revise that draft, recirculate that agreement.
I literally have a 15-minute-mobility rule. I will not travel anywhere outside of a 15-minute radius of my work station. Which basically means I live like a hermit.
Making plans with friends is extremely psychologically painful. The entire time leading up to the hour of our meeting, I'm worried I'm going to get "that email."
Then the entire time during the hour of our meeting I'm thumbing my blackberry, still dreading the sight of "that email."
It is not until I'm safely back at home that I feel a tremendous sense of relief. But what's the point of going out with friends when you're so distracted by anxiety you can't even enjoy their company?!
I don't think this holding pattern can hold much longer. Something's gotta give. Either I will lose my mind in this 10 by 10 cell of a life, or I will lose my job.
Or I will learn to be okay with disappointing my coworkers and bosses and occasionally (or more than occasionally) my friends and family. Okay, knowing myself, this latter option is impossible.
I'm so tired of living in a bubble of independence so that at a moment's notice, as soon as my blackberry summons me forth, I'm ready. Ready to review that document, revise that draft, recirculate that agreement.
I literally have a 15-minute-mobility rule. I will not travel anywhere outside of a 15-minute radius of my work station. Which basically means I live like a hermit.
Making plans with friends is extremely psychologically painful. The entire time leading up to the hour of our meeting, I'm worried I'm going to get "that email."
Then the entire time during the hour of our meeting I'm thumbing my blackberry, still dreading the sight of "that email."
It is not until I'm safely back at home that I feel a tremendous sense of relief. But what's the point of going out with friends when you're so distracted by anxiety you can't even enjoy their company?!
I don't think this holding pattern can hold much longer. Something's gotta give. Either I will lose my mind in this 10 by 10 cell of a life, or I will lose my job.
Or I will learn to be okay with disappointing my coworkers and bosses and occasionally (or more than occasionally) my friends and family. Okay, knowing myself, this latter option is impossible.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)