The Laid Off Diary: Dear Diary…this sucks.

Dear Diary:

I think that I was drawn to law because it was a strong interest for me. No, I wouldn’t say passion because…seriously? But, the way of thinking, the analytical aspect, the argument/debate side, the communication fluency and oratory skill needed, the refined writing abilities, etc. is why I went to law school. I truly had an interest in law.

I recently retook the Myers Brigg personality test and I am an ENTP. One website said that it was commonly referred to as the “lawyer” type.

So,then what gives Laid Off? Why are you 1) laid off and 2) so cynical about lawyers and the practice of law?

Pues, everything I valued about law has a minimal part in the actual practice of law, especially in BigLaw. We aren’t valued for our creative or innovative ideas or solutions, we are valued for drinking the koolaid, schmoozing, spending weekends doing pointless and unchallenging work and other such mindless things that have nothing to do with what “LAWYER” embodies.

I liked law, theoretically. I liked the practice of law, theoretically. The ideas of a business lawyer, the creative arguments of a litigator…all synch up with my ENTP personality. But none of these things are highly valued in a BigLaw associate.

BigLaw wants billing machines and by machine, they mean not only one that can sit for 10 hours in a little chair in a little room staring at a little flat screen monitor, but ones that will take orders without question. They don’t value associates for their ideas. (Writing that made me laugh because that would be a hilarious notion to say that BigLaw cares about our ideas). BigLaw doesn’t care about how intellectually curious we are except only to the extent that our curiosity led us to achievements that they can put on their little websites as proof of our pedigree when they go court clients.

We all know that what makes a good law student doesn’t make a good lawyer. What makes a good lawyer theoretically doesn’t always make a good BigLaw lawyer.

And that is the dysfunction of why my personality, which seemed so well suited to be a “lawyer”, did not seamlessly dovetail with actually being a “lawyer” in the real world.

to that I say, goddamn. Goddamn.

Dear Diary:

I believe that sending out rejection emails is fun for at least the worker drone that has to send them out. In fact, I believe it is so fun that these admin people can’t wait to send them out because I have been getting some insta-rejection emails. The fastest one was TWO hours after I sent in my resume. How much time could they possibly have spent sifting through resumes and considering each person’s qualifications?

In fact, I got a rejection email yesterday from a position I never applied for from a company I’ve never heard of. This is great FUN for someone!

Yeah, yeah, my recruiter friend tells me that some of these positions are fake or already filled or that are just feelers for the employer so it might not be a true “rejection.” whatever the case, it is b.u.l.l. s.h.i.t.

Fisher Price outta get in on a piece of this action and make a kids game out of it because I’m sure someone is secretly getting some glee out of the fact that his/her JOB is to tell me I can’t have one that it would sell like hot cakes. They can call it Schadenfreude for kids, ages 8-80.

Assholes.

http://www.facebook.com/privacy/?view=profile&tab=basic#/profile.php?id=1793017633&ref=profile

Dear Diary:

Goddammit.

I’m so sick of being on the hunt. Not only has this happened to me:

and I am hunting for a job (and have been for several months only to be completely aware in the back of my mind that I will probably not find the job I want or one that will pay the bills without having to be supplemented by my savings for at least SIX months and that is if I network my ass off and find a leprechaun that will personally lead me to a pot of gold. If anyone has any fertilizer/crack to get my damn networking seeds to grow faster, please let me know), I am also hunting for a roommate.

I’m starting to take it personally when people don’t rent from me. Yes, everything is done last minute because I have tons of people who email me looking for a June 1st move in (but I need a July 1st move in) but I’m starting to take it as rejection when people come in and look around and tell me “they’ll let me know”. It makes me shudder. It reminds me of when partners used to tell me “they’ll keep me in mind.” Fuck. That. We all saw how that turned out.

Seriously, the location is amazing, the place has a ton of amenities and is fucking damn awesome, but I keep getting these hicks from Jersey or people from the West Coast or elsewhere who don’t understand they are in NEW YORK CITY. Having laundry IN THE BUILDING is a HUGE plus. Being 3 blocks from the subway is CONVENIENT. Dumbasses.

Roommates suck.

Employers suck.

People suck in general.

–Goddammit.

Dear Diary:

Today’s word of the day from Merriam-Webster is manumit, which means “to release from slavery.” Gee, for some reason that resonated with me.

Ok, enough about BigLaw slavery. Today, I drank wine at 11:00am, took the big dog out for an hour and a half stroll through the park, tried to interview roommates (I had suspected that the average person is an idiot, I have now concrete evidence that this is so as they continually reschedule, back out, take the apartment, change their minds, and are overall slobbering fools, ) and then suffered from a horrible allergy attack. Damn New York.

I need a sugar person. I was completely unaware that there were several websites dedicated to finding a sugar mommy/sugar daddy. Amazing. I knew of that reality TV show about wanting to date a millionaire (btw, my new obsession is trashy reality TV shows), but I really was ignorant to the whole institutionalized “alternative arrangement” scene.

And I used to think you should work hard, get in to a good school, do well, get into a good law school, do well, and then get a good job. So much for that plan.

–too many degrees to be unemployed

I read an article by The Snark regarding when you know you’ve hit your peak in your career and everything comes crashing down. Here’s a snippet (and you can click on it to take you to the actual article):

What makes a partner a rock star one day and unemployed the next? How could a sought-after law school recruit who was juggling competing six-figure offers just three short years ago be unable to find employment now? Is there some way to know your career has hit its peak? And can you avoid it?

The thing is, I always knew that my job at BigLaw was a dead end job. It seems like an odd thing to say when you’re making 6 figures and can’t online shop fast enough, but it really was a dead end job for me. Whenever I thought about my career, I felt like I was walking down a dark hallway or cave and was destined to walk down that hall way with no light in view. BigLaw was that dreadfully boring. but of course, I put one foot in front of the other because…why else? cold hard cash.

At any rate, the article ends with a quote by Vanilla Ice: “Will it ever stop? Yo, I don’t know . . .” —Vanilla Ice.

Which made me think about Robert Van Winkle’s apology years later for the hairdos, the baggie pants, the scandals, the lies, the gangs, the music…well, pretty much everything Vanilla Ice was.

I’d hate to have to apologize for the expensive suits, the expensive dinners, the long hours, neglecting my family, my significant other (of which I have none so this does not apply to me), my health, my fat dog, etc., and the pointless work of making rich people richer and junior associates cry (well, not me, I never made anyone cry. I even took my secretary out to lunch once a month. Maybe I had too much of this thing I hear is called a soul that sometimes makes people do good things, but I’m not totally sure. Which, side note, I’ve been getting into watching The Reaper about a guy who is supposedly the son of the devil (but tries to be a “good guy”) and has to catch escaped souls from Hell that wreak all sorts of havoc on earth. Yes, that’s the kind of humor I’m into and I’m proud of it.)

But at any rate, I’m glad that even though I’m getting acquainted with the dog poop on the sidewalk on the curb I’m sitting on after being unceremoniously kicked to said curb, at least I know that BigLaw was not the peak of my career and I don’t feel so bad.

–Haven’t hit my peak

p.s. yes, I purposely sign off with sexual innuendos whenever I can. and yes, that’s the kind of humor I’m into and I’m proud of it.

Dear Diary:

I’ve had a facebook account for a bit mainly because I’ve lived in and traveled to many places so I use it to really keep in touch with friends. While I was in BigLaw, it was in private mode that nobody could really find me. It’s not really professional to have a facebook and it’s a bit dicey, but I do know of a few partners who have facebook accounts. Two of them in different sections added me after I got shit canned. wtf?

and after I got shit canned, I made it public. Man, the number of people that find me now is crazy. Let’s start with ex-es. I’ve had a few blasts from the past come knocking on my facebook door. Yes, I’ve broken a few hearts in my day (no, not really, just the usual bitter break up bullshit) and now these exes want to be friends and want to meet and catch up.

But it’s not just exes. It’s also douches from my former law firm, people I’ve met but didn’t really want to, friends of friends I wish I didn’t meet, and super hot people (I’m secretly in love with someone on another continent). So, now I have to spend time categorizing these people so they can only see select parts of my profile. Jesus christ it’s work and I thought that I no longer work.

It’s funny what kind of new bull shit you can find to fill your days now that you don’t work. I still feel like my days are full of shit to do.

–Going back to private on facebook

Dear Diary:

It’s 2:02 am on a school night, I’m watching How I Met Your Mother I recorded on my DVR and eating pringles sour cream and onion chips. And I don’t have to be anywhere tomorrow until 5:30pm. My alarm clock isn’t set.

This is a life I could get used to.

Dear Diary:

Since I’ve been laid off, let go, kicked out onto the curb by BigLaw, I’ve amazed myself on things I’ve been able to accomplish: making tasty creations in the kitchen, learning new language, working out and getting into shape (although, today I twisted my ankle and I’m sure it looked super attractive when I went down), etc. My friend emailed me this website called “100 Amazing How To Sites to Teach Yourself Anything” but you know what? I’m kind of a lazy ass.

Ok, all the snide “that’s probably why you got canned” remarks aside, I’m actually learning how to relax and actually live life.

I did feel guilty for a while not to make every single second of my day count–look for a job, clean, read the business/finance books I borrowed to help me be a BigLaw business attorney that I never even opened, network network network, attend seminars, attend CLEs, read up on current events, read up on the history of China (the next frontier, friends, the next frontier!), learn Chinese, etc. etc.

I think it’s because many people become lawyers because we are all gunners (I love the definition of “law school gunner” on urban dictionary. The first line is “law school cocksucker”.

Yeah, we might have sat in the back and played bingo (we would cross off squares every time that loser gunner in the front would raise his/her hand and say a word) in class, and drink until we were blind and then swear we’d never drink again the next afternoon at 4pm when we finally woke up, but still. We are gunners in some shape or form. We might be an undercover gunner, but still a gunner nonetheless. (Here’s a blog about med school gunners–except that our closet gunners in law school really did have tales of booze and whores because law school is a lot easier–well, at least nobody dies when we commit malpractice. But med students seem to be a lot less funny/witty than their law student counterpart as shown in the following video:

Top Gunner Med School from Arvin Ejaz on Vimeo.

Thank god med students aren’t actors…or comedians…

But I digress.

We lawyers were gunners to some extent, especially BigLaw attorneys. We had to be awake and somewhat alert to go through 3 years of law school, sober up to make our OCI interviews, sober up again before our call back interview, endure 6 weeks of excruciatingly boring bar review class, 2-3 days of the bar exam itself without passing out in our own drool…. not to mention all the mind numbing b.s. we did as junior associates in BigLaw while putting on the “thank you sir, may I have another” bullshit. Some of you assholes really meant it too. I don’t think it means you were more of a gunner, just less of a man.

But again, I digress.

My point is that I’m finally embracing that I can actually waste time, but it’s not really wasting time. It’s just enjoying my time without a deadline, without having to be somewhere, without that constant fear that I missed something or that I should be somewhere else. This feeling, while intensified in law school and in BigLaw, has its roots in grade school where I had to be on the honor roll, I had to be first in my class, I had to get the A, I had to kick your ass, etc. etc.

I’ll probably look through that website and learn something but I’ll learn something that will bring me joy, not because my gunner self things it’s something I should do and then pressure myself the entire time I’m doing it to squeeze out every last possible enjoyment I could get out of it.

So, for now, I’m relaxing and not feeling guilty about it (or trying not to feel guilty about it)

–Lazy Bastard and Enjoying It.

Dear Diary:

Here is an interesting article in the Atlantic that a colleague in BigLaw (still) forwarded me (if he’s researching these types of articles, I have a feeling, he isn’t happy).

Here is the synopsis (click on the photo above for the link):

Is there a formula—some mix of love, work, and psychological adaptation—for a good life? For 72 years, researchers at Harvard have been examining this question, following 268 men who entered college in the late 1930s through war, career, marriage and divorce, parenthood and grandparenthood, and old age. Here, for the first time, a journalist gains access to the archive of one of the most comprehensive longitudinal studies in history. Its contents, as much literature as science, offer profound insight into the human condition—and into the brilliant, complex mind of the study’s longtime director, George Vaillant.