being homely.

For the longest time, I thought "homely" meant "domestic."  When my father would comment that a woman was "homely" (and, for the record, my Dad is the nicest guy ever and used that phrase rather sparingly), I would wonder how he could tell her ironing capabilities and that she excelled at baking just by looking at her.

I am not "homely."  And I do not mean that as a compliment my own appearance.  What I mean is, I suck at ironing and baking.

While in Mexico, a friend of mine, who would likely consider herself a "recovering Mormon" in the way I think of myself as a "recovering lawyer" (in a "I respect it, it's just not for me" kind of way), walked into our kitchen to find me unsuccessfully attempting pancakes.  Within seconds, she had the bowl and the spatula out of my hands and was adding some kind of magic ingredients.  Within minutes, we had fluffy, delicious pancakes.  It was incredible.  Whereas, I, on the other hand, have screwed up Puppy Chow to the point of no return and have excessively relied on the "baking at altitude" excuse for every single cookie and brownie resulting in utter disaster (aka all of them).

I also recently discovered that I need to drink beer in order to iron.  I have had 6 items of clothing sitting on my dresser now for about a month, waiting to be ironed.  After an especially difficult month in the finances department, I decided to cut down even further on "unnecessary spending."  Apparently, that also included drycleaning.  I ambitiously decided I would wash my work clothes and then just iron them, thereby saving myself about $3 per shirt.  That was a mistake.  I'm terrible at ironing... and what's more... I HATE it.  I would rather have the stomach flu than iron.  And my work product reveals my disdain.

My mother, who I consider to be even less domestic than I am (sorry Mom, but it's true), supposedly used to iron my father's dress shirts back in the day.  Growing up, I was told how my mother would starch the collars and dutifully prepare each and every shirt for my father, who was (and still is) in sales and required a press shirt daily.  Now that I have had the privilege of ironing my own dress shirts, I find her reputation hard to believe.  My Dad was the one who taught me how to sew and adorned an apron every night (both literally and figuratively).  And while, to her credit, my Mom can make a mean cookie (and bean dip!), she just isn't domestic.  And that has to be where I get it from.  I also inherited her love for hosting parties.  You would think these two characteristics would be mutually exclusive, but they're not.  It turns out you can throw a fantastic party without having to lift an iron.

So I am left with a ruined skirt, half a beer and a pile of wrinkly clothes.  But, at least I can confidently say I'm not homely.

letting the cat out of the bag

I have a really great story about a cat and a "baaaag" (with a Wisconsin accent)... but my friends tell me that I have a tendency to repeat my "really great" stories... so I might save that one for another time.  Besides, because the hilarity of the story really depends on its execution in a Wisconsin accent, I'm sure it probably loses something over the Internet.

Alright, I will cut to the very exciting chase:  I am leaving law to go work for Cafe Well, a social media company focused on health and wellness.  And I am SO freaking excited!!!!!!!!!!!! 

I've struggled with how best to package this news in order to convey the appropriate amount of gratitude to the law firm that employed me in a terrible job market, while also being honest about how I felt about myself as a lawyer.  After days (ok, weeks) of hemming, hawing and trying to spare feelings, I decided that honesty is always the best policy.  To the extent (do you think that now that I'm done being a lawyer the phrase "to the extent" will drift out of my vocabulary as magically as it entered?  I hope so).  Anyway, to the extent any lawyer is insulted by my decision to leave the law, please consider this my formal apology.  It's not you.  It's me.  It's me and the industry.  It's me and the nature of law.  It's me.  It's me.  And I was miserable.

I would have to say that I knew early on law might not be for me.  There's a certain desperation that goes along with that.  A certain "oh shit, what have I done?" that sits in the pit of your stomach and rears its ugly head just about the time you start thinking "maybe I could make this work."  Thanks to the blog Leaving the Law, I learned that my Meyers Briggs personality type is ESFJ - Extrovert, Sensing, Feeling, Judging.  Interestingly, I also learned that only 2.7% of lawyers are ESFJ.  And here is what that apparently means: ESFJ results.  A majority of lawyers, according to the writer of Leaving the Law, are ISTJ - Introvert, Sensing, Thinking, Judging, and it struck me as I read this, that not one of my friends from law school could be considered an Introvert.  Weird.  Then again, most of my friends from law school are going through their own struggles with being lawyers.  Ha, sorry guys, I guess you're just not introverted enough for the law.  Weird. 

Anyway, I didn't quit law over some personality test online that told me maybe a legal career was not the best fit.  I quit law because every piece of me and who I am told me every single day that a legal career was most definitely not the best fit. It's hard to admit defeat.  Ask anyone.  In most cases, I would rather die trying with a smile on my face, than admit defeat.  Strangely though, accepting that the law wasn't for me was the most freeing, liberating feeling in the world.

Once I accepted this... the next questions became, WHEN??  HOW??  SERIOUSLY???  When in the world am I supposed to make this transition?  How long do you have to give it before you can justify throwing in the towel?  And... to a certain extent... what would people think?? 

Here's what I know:  (1) I have $260,000 in debt.  That is constant.  That is not going anywhere.  I will have that debt whether I make $30,000 a year or $400,000 a year.  (2) I could never, EVER go BigLaw.  I was working at the, relatively speaking, coolest, most modern, most laid back, while still being a respectable 17th Street law firm.  And I couldn't hack it.  While there are of course politics in every firm, I loved the people at my firm... and I knew enough to know that they were damn good lawyers.  In other words, if I wanted to become a great lawyer, while also being able to train for marathons... this firm was the place for me.  (3) If I don't go BigLaw (like really, really BigLaw... like sell-your-soul and your first born BigLaw), I will not make the kind of kind of money I need to make to pay off my loans in that 5-year period I so unrealistically set for myself when I decided to go to law school.  (4) There is a thing called the Income Based Repayment program, and it's saving lives everywhere.

Once I let go of the loan piece... and those who know me, know what a task that was... I could focus the reality of not practicing law.  I could get to the place where I could admit to myself and other that, like the People's Therapist said, I suck at law.  Not in the way you're thinking.  I'm sure I was on the path to being a really good lawyer some day.  That's not what I mean.  I mean I suck at being adversarial.  I suck at conforming.  And while the competition piece is certainly ingrained in me, I lacked the ownership over my work to really consider practicing law as a competition. 

Also, like the PT said, I'm good at school  (yes friends, I was/am "Nicki from Wisconsin"... I know), and law school is school.  As any attorney will tell you, law school doesn't make you a lawyer.  Spending countless hours (and actually... they're not "countless" - you better be counting every single one of them in tenth of an hour increments and charging exorbitant rates) behind a desk, constantly feeling like you're not doing enough and someone is always mad at you (the partner, the client, opposing counsel...), the guilt, the anxiety, the constant fear that you missed something, contentious conference calls day after day... THAT makes you a lawyer.  And I knew I couldn't do those things for the rest of my life.  Even if it means I  "wasted" $130,000 per letter (J and D) after my name.  It's a sunk cost.  And when I think about all the non-legal benefits I got from law school, and how much I enjoyed the actual school part of it, I can say, even right now (even while my loans are accruing interest at a higher rate than what I'm paying on them), that it was worth it.  It was worth it for the people I met.  It was worth it for the place it brought me to.  It was worth it for the experiences abroad.  If it's what I needed to go through to bring me here... then it was worth it.

There's so much more that I want to write on this topic.  I want to tell you all about people's reactions (because it was not at all what I expected).  I want to tell you how my new job came to be.  I want to tell you how supportive my family has been.  And I will... in future blog posts.  Because while I think I can finally consider myself officially in "recovery," this blog will survive my legal career, and I have every plan to keep writing and let The Recovering Lawyer become whatever it's going to become.

A huge HUGE thank you to everyone for all of your support and words of encouragement along the way.  As most of you know... I am more than happy to talk further with any of you about this topic.  And it's fitting to me, that I finally have a minute to sit down and finish this blog post (which I started over 2 weeks ago) on Easter Sunday.  I think it's also appropriate to quote Leaving the Law one more time before I sign off, because her words ring true for me... The Meyers Briggs Personality Test is not going to substitute for the voice of God, mind you, but it might help you sort out some of the competing voices in your head. Well, the ones you can discuss in polite company, anyway.  I am grateful for the Meyers Briggs results, AND the voice of God, AND the people who have walked me through this... the ones I would consider NOT as "polite company" but as rather real, honest company - the ones who told me that if I'm miserable now, I'll be miserable in 5 years.  That if law isn't a good fit, it doesn't magically become a better fit just because I have debt.  The ones who've discussed all of this with me ad nauseum and stood next to me while I publicly embarrassed myself on this topic.  To all of you, THANK YOU.

And so begins the long (amazing, fun, exhilarating, inspiring, reason-to-get-up-in-the-morning) path of recovery.  Amen.

google brings us together

As drafted on March 30, 2011 (but not published at that time for obvious reasons)

After recently telling someone that they could find my blog by googling 'the recovering lawyer,' I decided to test the accuracy of that statement.

I'm shocked that I just now found another "recovering lawyer."  It feels like AA...only for lawyers.  We basically write about the same topic, although perhaps I do it a bit more informally than she does, and it appears she has dedicated her life to this pursuit while I'm (jealously) not quite there yet.  A couple of her posts are so spot-on, they bring tears to my eyes.

Here's to Leaving The Law, in all its glory and truth.

A big THANK YOU to Leah for locating this gem.  I adore this.  This requires absolutely zero additional editory comment (which, I know, is very rare coming from me).  Enjoy!

Ladycation

Get ready for a barrage of blog posts.  I started about 15 posts over the last 2 weeks... some of which I simply could not post (for timing reasons which will become obvious in the next few posts) and some of which I really just haven't had time to perfect.

I am going a little out of sequence by posting about vacation before posting about THE BIG NEWS, but I really need a little more time to appropriately develop my amazing announcement (that, and there's a part of me that loves the suspense of it all).

So, without further ado... straight from the beaches of Playa del Carmen, I bring you:  Ladycation

(The scene: Sitting at the table in our FABULOUS one bedroom condo, with full kitchen and a private infinity pool on the balcony.  Attire: Uniform for the week- swim suit, cover up, straw hat, smile).

I thought I would be writing everyday.  I really thought I would be chomping at the bit ("Whhhhoooooaaaaa Poncho") to get in front of my computer and spew all of the thoughts that have been going through my mind for the last month, the decisions I’ve made in that time, the way my life has significantly changed and how that came to fruition mere hours before we left for Mexico.   Interestingly, however, it’s our last full day in paradise (and it is seriously paradise here)... and I have just opened my computer to throw down a few thoughts before we leave for an afternoon on the beach in Playa.  Despite the many blog posts that I’ve started in the last few weeks about my decision to get out of the practice of law, I’m not going to write about that today.  Instead, today’s topic is “ladycation” and all its glory.

We met a group of girls from Jersey (and no, not the “G-T-L” Jersey Shore types).  These ladies were AWESOME.  Very similar to us - from the marathon running to the relationship struggles... It makes me wish there were a "lady" phrase equivalent to "brothas from anotha motha."  Theses girls coined the name “ladycation” and showed up to Mexico with their matching, polka dot can-coozies, with each lady's initials embroidered in pink.  It was impressive.  We took their phrase and made it ours.

Ladycation – where ladies and vacation come together, and we had an absolute BLAST.  Like a legendary blast.  And I’m proud of us.  You take three girls who are great friends but have different vacation philosophies and then add sun and alcohol, and in all honesty, there was every potential for disaster.  I would bet that this is how a lot of really great friendships among girls undoubtedly meet their demise.  Fortunately, our trip was exactly the opposite... and I had more fun than I’ve had in a really, really long time.  Holy moley, I laughed harder than I've laughed all year.  And I maybe even have a "tan" (those, of course, being necessary quotation marks) to boot.   

So cheers to ladycation and all the incredible people we met along the way.  And because I can't get through a blog post without referring to law...  To all those attorneys out there who think everything will fall apart if you take a vacation:  It might.  But even if it does, I promise you, it'd be worth it.


Hasta luego amigos!

if you missed your hipster calling, try to take a vacation.

Above The Law just featured a great article about doing what you love and letting everything else fall as it may, and in true social media fashion, it led me to yet another really great blog by a lawyer... who decided not to be a lawyer and calls himself "The People's Therapist."  This post is about his hipster friend.  I'll save the "surprise twist" and just encourage you to read it for yourself:

Hipster.  And Lawyer.

photo by liz:  http://lizzythings.tumblr.com/

Turns out this guy also recently published a book:  Life is a Brief Opportunity for Joy.  I haven't read it... but based on the title, it sounds like perfect beach reading for the trip to Mexico I am taking next week.  Yes, you heard me.  I am going on vacation. 
I AM GOING ON VACATION. 
I hope there comes a point in my life where I don't feel compelled to follow that sentence up with "but I billed 175 hours last month."  It would be really nice to not feel like I'm cheating on my career by going on vacation. 

To my firm's credit, everyone has been very positive about me taking 5 whole business days off and being without email or cell access.  With the exception of a couple senior associates who have not-so-subtly let me know that in their 12 years of practice, they have never taken off more than 3 consecutive business days... not even when they got married.  Choking back vomit, I may have responded that I wasn't impressed with that little statistic... and actually, did they realize how sad that was?  Ok, so maybe my response was a bit harsh.  But I feel very strongly about vacation... and almost more so about this ridiculous notion that lawyers shouldn't take them.

I have a week filled with friends, speaking Spanish, a massage benefiting a fabulous non-profit organization, playing cards on the beach, riding cruisers around a quaint Mexican town, horseback riding on the beach and pina coladas ahead of myself.  As from the second I step on the plane, I have promised myself that I will leave my guilt at the door. 

sh*t my dad says

So there's this guy whose dad is notorious for not having a filter.  The guy starting tweeting about it, leading to a blog about it, and then a book... and now, from what I hear, a TV show?  Anyway, it's called Sh*t My Dad Says, and it's pretty hilarious (the Sh*t, not the TV show).

I use this only by way of analogy to introduce pearls of wisdom my own father has imparted on me over the years, which have been particularly apropos in recent months.  While nowhere near as vulgar as the "Sh*t" that other guy's dad says, and with more of an inspirational intention than anything else, my Dad's brilliant sayings are printed out and taped above my computer as a constant reminder that life isn't always fair and there's nothing you can do about it but work your butt off.

This first saying my Dad has had engraved on a plaque and sitting on his desk for about as long as I can remember.  Since about the time I learned to read, I began pondering the following quote and trying to understand it.  Then I remember learning who Richard Nixon was and what he did... and instantly understanding the irony of the oh-so-true quote that sits on my Dad's desk:

I know you believe you understand what you think I said.  However, I am not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.  
 - Richard Nixon

You might think that as a lawyer, I have had plenty of opportunities to apply this saying to my everyday practice.  Those who don't know me, or those who have a cliche misconception of the practice of law, probably picture me in a courtroom, wagging my finger at the judge and telling him his business.  Au contraire.  BUT... after a recent HUGE misunderstanding (of Watergate proportions) with one of my best friends... I think I finally understood how Nixon felt.

Saying number two is one of my Dad's favorite sign-offs following a conversation about my frustrations with [fill in the blank...clients, work, loans, etc.].  He poached it from one of his favorite "talking heads," and as much as I despise sports radio and baseball analogies, I do love this saying: 

Swing hard in case you hit it.  -Steve "The Homer" True

The third saying is from Calvin Coolidge... and two things strike me as I write this:  (1) my Dad has a knack for quoting mediocre, and somewhat controversial, US Presidents and (2) those mediocre, controversial Presidents almost appear wise... or, if nothing else, creative:

Press on.  Nothing in the world can take the place of perseverance.  Talent will not.  Nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent.  Genius will not.  Unrewarded genius is almost a proverb.  Education alone will not.  The world is full of educated derelicts.  Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent.  -Calvin Coolidge

It's true, and it makes me smile.  As this week begins, I have a number of coffees and lunches scheduled with third year law students who I met at an alumni/student breakfast a couple weeks back.  Despite the many prominent attorneys present at the event, a number of the students waited in line to talk to me... A second year associate who showed up to the breakfast in jeans and felt zero shame amidst the suits.  Why me?  They wanted to know about debt and how in the world they should begin to think about paying it back.  In a way, it's sad that curiosity about the legal profession and the pursuit to find the best fit job is trumped by "what do I have to do to pay back my loans?"  I don't really have much to offer in the way of solutions.  Because let's be honest, if I had a solution, I probably wouldn't be writing this blog. 

If nothing else, I hope I can give them some peace of mind as they enter their legal careers.  As a couple of friends recently joked, however, sometimes I confuse "peace of mind" with a "piece of (my) mind."  To be perfectly honest... yes, of course there will be some of that mixed in there, but if nothing else, I hope to impart on them that it's a marathon, not a sprint, and there is absolutely NOTHING they can do about it but work hard and let the pieces fall as they may... To swing hard in case they hit it.