The Thick of It

My relief lasted only 24 hours into last week.  I made the most of them- I made my Shutterfly photo calendar for 2012, booked a bunch of doctor's appointments for the various human and canine members of my family, and cleaned out over 2,000 emails from my Outlook inbox.  I only billed 4.25 hours on Monday and it was wonderful.  That all changed on Tuesday when I got tasked with responding to two of the other side's MILs (Motions in Limine for the uninitiated; a pre-trial motion you file to preclude the other side from presenting certain evidence or arguments that would be so prejudicial to the jury, you want to judge to rule on their admissibility before the trial even starts, or, at least instruct counsel that they must approach the bench before introducing the testimony so she can rule then.  They range from the frivolous to the crucial; I was tasked to responding to two of the crucial.). 

I billed 49 hours between Tuesday and Friday.  I missed dinner on Wednesday and Landon was horrified.  I did make it home to play a quick game of Memory with him (a game of memory I lost because I was so freaking tired and burnt out and distracted by how I was going to distinguish all the Federal Circuit case law I was mired in) and tuck him in bed before getting back to work.  I tried to assuage my guilt at his honest confusion and annoyance at my absence by telling myself it's impressive that after 3 years and 1 month of BigLaw junior associate lawyering, my child was shocked that missing dinner was a possibility.  It kind of worked, but mostly I just didn't have time for a break down about it. 

My lowest moment was probably Wednesday morning when I sat in the partner's office, listening to her thoughts on the arguments that would go in my Response and I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.  The MIL involves a lot of very unique, very technical intellectual property legal issues and I only understood about 25% of the words coming out of her mouth.  The brief had to be filed by midnight on Friday and I just thought, "I can't do this."  It was the first time in my legal career I truly felt that time, work, and a whole lot of case law reading just wasn't going to be enough... that I just couldn't get my head around the arguments I should be making and I wouldn't be able to turn out a written product that would be good, or even acceptable.  I've never felt that overwhelmed before.

Twenty-five billable hours and a ton of work later I had two solid drafts for each brief.  Twelve hours after that, on the day of filing, the other partner was finally able to read everyone's drafts for the 8 MIL responses and I got an email with "The one gets the prize for the best I've reviewed. I don't need to see it again before filing." 

That may not sound like much, but in that section, from that person, it's the equivalent of 27 gold stars, a hug, and a beer.  It was easily the most hard-fought personal victory I've had at the firm.

Was it worth missing two family dinners in one week and getting no sleep and a constant headache and working my brain harder than I have since law school?  I don't know.  Probably not.  But being able to wrestle a bunch of case law and a set of facts and a few Federal Rules of Evidence into submission is part of why I love my job.  It's HARD.  It's really hard.  It requires more brain power than I've ever had to give anything, ever, and I can't imagine not working in a job that required that of me.  Because if I'm going to spend time away from my family, then I want that time to challenge and fulfill me- otherwise, it's just time I'm not spending with them.  Now, it's that, but with something more, something deeply rewarding.  Sometimes, in the thick of it, I'll fantasize about a job where I just show up, do it, and go home.  There would be no bleary 2 a.m. nights, no dreams about case holdings, no frantic feeling that I really just don't understand the legal theories I'm trying to craft a nuanced, case-law supported argument against.  There was a woman in my section several years ago, a "superstar" the partners adored and the other associates aspired to be, and she left after her fourth year to do part-time contract work for a smaller firm.  A friend just had lunch with her last week and reported that she's very happy.  She works 20 hours a week, has no blackberry, and does doc review and research support for the other attorneys.  She isn't staffed on cases and doesn't write briefs, but it's what she wanted- "a job, not a career" - and she's home with her kids every day.  But nice as aspects of that arrangement sound (and they do sound nice), even at 2 a.m. this past Thursday when I was so tired I hurt and I was staring at a draft I wasn't anywhere near proud of, I wasn't jealous of her.  And that says something, I think. 

It doesn't mean that I didn't find the time to update my resume at one particularly low point, or that I wouldn't be interested in something that falls in-between her job and what I'm doing now.  And there's no doubt my weekend off with JP and the kids (and the 2 restorative margaritas I had at dinner and the even more restorative 11 hours of sleep I got last night) were all necessary to my well-being.  But even in the thick of it, when I contemplated skipping my flu shot because a week at the flu sounded like a lovely break (I got the shot), I didn't really want to do anything else.