Patient Zero is how Jason has been lovingly referring to our daughter this weekend. While she is doing much better, the rest of us are experiencing various stages of illness and despair. Okay, so despair is kind of a strong word. Marcie's cold is sitting in her trachea, which her pediatrician has informed me means she will have a loose cough for probably 4-6 weeks. But she's in good spirits and back to sleeping through the night, so that's good news.
Wish I could say the same for me. The sleeping through the night part, anyway. This virus is most miserable first thing in the morning. I feel exhausted. And everything hurts. It's just sitting in my sinuses and my vocal cords, hanging out. And hanging on. But at least I can breathe.
It's still attacking Jason's throat. So last night Jason forewent my office shindig (which was quite swank compared to what this public school teacher's usual holiday office festivities entail). I missed him terribly, and I am the worst at making small talk, so I was feeling a little anxious about going alone. But after spending two hours curling my hair into spirals, I'd be darned if I weren't going to go! So off I went.
As is the case with most office parties, upon arriving I immediately attached myself to my closest friend at work, who was there with her husband. But I knew I couldn't (and shouldn't) glom on to them forever. So I headed for the bar. Not to drink because, well, I'm a serious light-weight and with Jason conspicuously absent I was driving myself home. But my strategy was to spend my time at the bar.
I met two people in line the first time through, accepted my drink, and got back in line. Where I met two more people. And by the time I got back to the front of the line, my diet Pepsi was empty-- just in time for another drink. I repeated this three times before they asked us to sit down for dinner. It works great with Diet Pepsi, but it's not something I'd want to do if I were actually imbibing alcohol. And yet I have no idea how to circulate around a room. I'm certainly open to thoughts and suggestions here. I don't really have trouble finding a circle of people in which to insert myself. My issues come when I'm bored. Or we've run out of things to say. How do I extract myself? I see a future filled with cocktail parties of one sort or another. So please. If you have advice share. My career may depend on it.
I had a good time despite flying solo. There were dance instructors (what a fantastic idea!), so no excuses for not dancing! I did the Electric Slide, which really brought me back to my sorority days. And then I headed home.
The kids were tucked into bed. The house was quiet. And I fell into a restless sleep. And actually, my kids don't really tuck themselves into anything. Talk about restless. They flip and flop and scoot and toss and turn. They flip so they are sleeping sideways. They turn so their heads are where their feet should be. They kick off their sheets and blankets, then cocoon themselves into them. It is amazing to observe. They are seriously messy sleepers. I think they take after their father-- though I don't suppose sleep habits are the sort of thing that result from nurture unless you opt for a family bed (and we don't).
Anyway, I have been carrying magical words with me since early yesterday evening. The kind of words that make a girl smile inside and add a spring to her step. As I was kissing the kids good-bye before I left for the party, Casey smiled up at me, eyes wide, and said, "Mommy, you look pretty!" I was on cloud nine. He's never called me pretty before. What a treat.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Sunday, December 02, 2007
Monday, October 29, 2007
Young at Heart
I hope I didn't worry you all with my previous post-- Old Lady. I knew when I decided to change careers after eleven years in education that I'd be behind the curve. Someone even asked me about how that would make me feel in an interview once. Really, though, how can you know? I don't think it's the age thing so much as being at a different place in life. And I don't just mean that I have kids and the only other female first year associate with children (whom I know of) is from my home office. (Come to think of it, though, that makes me pretty lucky.) What I do mean is that we're at completely different stages of life.
By now I'm mostly used to being with people who are proven, responsible adults. That may mean children. But it could just mean holding down a job. Not partying every single night. And yes, you can do both-- hold down a job conscientiously and still party every night. So I don't know what my problem is. I could just sense the lack of life experience in the room. And that brings me back to age.
There are definite advantages of being older. I recognize the benefits of working for a firm like ours, where they've opted to take the long view of an attorney's lifetime in the profession and really invest in training us. Unless you've worked in places where you have to root around for your own paper and writing utensils, where you ask for things like stickers, scissors, and markers for Christmas from your family and friends, and where everyone you know drives a car that's at least 10 years old, it's hard to understand what I mean. I guess it's not fair to make that generalization. I mean, teachers may have to scavenger for supplies, but I don't think most people do. Still, my point is that sometimes you don't know how good you have it unless you have something else to compare it to. Not in a grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side-of-the-fence comparison, but in a gosh-this-is-a-nice-gig-and-I-know-because-I've-been-around-the-block way. And I haven't even been around a very big block-- I'm. not. that. old. Plus, I'm not too proud. I expect my assistant to train me. I ask her to critique my work. I ask her a million dumb questions. I'm not too full of myself to forget to thank her. And I'm not too insecure to ask for help when I need it. Which is kind of frequently.
And the thing is I know I'm way goofier and sillier and have way more laughter in my life than probably a lot of other first-year associates. Because I'm a mom. Sure, it may be harder for me than for others to take three days off and head to New York-- even for fun--because I have something tethering me to my home. But I can assure you I dance just as much (maybe more), I make funny faces, I laugh openly at myself and my children. I read more books for pleasure, even if many of them only average five words in length. I am more aware of the larger world environment and the way we're leaving things behind because of my kids. Sure, I worry more. And I drink way less-- though I think that getting punch-drunk with the giddiness of the antics of my children is way more fun that stumbling around and forgetting what happened the next day.
Yeah. They're a young crop, the other first year associates. Younger and probably smarter than me. And I bet I can learn a lot from them-- and I'm open to that. But I wouldn't do it over. I wouldn't want to take back the last 10 years as a teacher and instructional designer. They may be young, but I'm young at heart.
By now I'm mostly used to being with people who are proven, responsible adults. That may mean children. But it could just mean holding down a job. Not partying every single night. And yes, you can do both-- hold down a job conscientiously and still party every night. So I don't know what my problem is. I could just sense the lack of life experience in the room. And that brings me back to age.
There are definite advantages of being older. I recognize the benefits of working for a firm like ours, where they've opted to take the long view of an attorney's lifetime in the profession and really invest in training us. Unless you've worked in places where you have to root around for your own paper and writing utensils, where you ask for things like stickers, scissors, and markers for Christmas from your family and friends, and where everyone you know drives a car that's at least 10 years old, it's hard to understand what I mean. I guess it's not fair to make that generalization. I mean, teachers may have to scavenger for supplies, but I don't think most people do. Still, my point is that sometimes you don't know how good you have it unless you have something else to compare it to. Not in a grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side-of-the-fence comparison, but in a gosh-this-is-a-nice-gig-and-I-know-because-I've-been-around-the-block way. And I haven't even been around a very big block-- I'm. not. that. old. Plus, I'm not too proud. I expect my assistant to train me. I ask her to critique my work. I ask her a million dumb questions. I'm not too full of myself to forget to thank her. And I'm not too insecure to ask for help when I need it. Which is kind of frequently.
And the thing is I know I'm way goofier and sillier and have way more laughter in my life than probably a lot of other first-year associates. Because I'm a mom. Sure, it may be harder for me than for others to take three days off and head to New York-- even for fun--because I have something tethering me to my home. But I can assure you I dance just as much (maybe more), I make funny faces, I laugh openly at myself and my children. I read more books for pleasure, even if many of them only average five words in length. I am more aware of the larger world environment and the way we're leaving things behind because of my kids. Sure, I worry more. And I drink way less-- though I think that getting punch-drunk with the giddiness of the antics of my children is way more fun that stumbling around and forgetting what happened the next day.
Yeah. They're a young crop, the other first year associates. Younger and probably smarter than me. And I bet I can learn a lot from them-- and I'm open to that. But I wouldn't do it over. I wouldn't want to take back the last 10 years as a teacher and instructional designer. They may be young, but I'm young at heart.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Old Lady
This weekend I'm away from my family, in New York City for a first-year associates' training. All the first year associates firmwide are here in Times Square. There are somewhere between 80 and 100 of us. And, well, I'm feeling pretty darn old.
Last night we arrived just in time for the cocktail hour. The food was yummy and the wine was nice. But, well, I pretty much suck at small talk. I suppose not always. I mean, I'm a talker. But I had trouble finding common ground. I'd met a couple really nice, friendly people early on. Then I felt my phone ring, and I saw it was a message from the school district. So I disappeared into the coat closet to listen to the message (over 300 students and 20 staff members lost their homes in the wild fires last week). I scared the heck out of an associate in the San Francisco office who had stepped into the coat closet to hang up her coat. But we got to talking. And she was super cool, so that was nice. I met some other nice San Francisco folks, a couple interesting people from Silicon Valley. And (finally) it was time for dinner.
I was put in a group of 8 to go to Bobby Flay's (is that how you spell his name?) restaurant Bar Americain, where I indulged in some rib eye, some asparagus, and a diet coke. Everyone seemed really . . . well, young. They chatted on and on about the cooking channel (yes, I realize Top Chef has nothing to do with age). Then the subject turned to Saved by the Bell and I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't even remember screeches name. And my childhood shows-- 90210 and Melrose Place-- were apparently popular while the other 7 people in my group were in middle school.
No one else was married or had kids. Everyone else, except my friend from the San Diego office, had essentially gone straight through from undergrad to law school, and most of them were graduates of big-name schools-- Stanford, Yale, Boalt, and Harvard.
At one point I asked a San Francisco associate who had mentioned a couple times that her brothers live in San Francisco if she lived with either of her brothers. I figured this was an innocent enough question. After all, I lived with my older brother when he was a first year associate. And even after I moved out, my younger brother moved in-- and lived with Bob through Bob's marriage and the birth of Bob's first child. Bob was in his early 30s when Bryan got married and moved out.
Anyway, she scrunched up her face and said, "Ew. No. I mean, I couldn't live with my brother. He's old. He's 32."
I laughed heartily and said I didn't think 32 was old-- I'm 33 and will be 34 next month. And besides, I explained, my brother had one of us living with him well into his thirties. Heck, depending on how you look at it, my sister still lives with him (albeit in a separate apartment in his building, but she hangs out in the main house a lot). And then we promptly changed the subject.
But I couldn't shake feeling old. All day long. I called home throughout the day to see how the kids were doing (Marcie was hanging out with Aunt Megan and Casey had a blast at Kaitlyn's birthday party, but baseball and music class were canceled because of the fires). And I missed them terribly. All day long.
Of course I'm not the oldest person here. And I'm not the only first year associate who has kids. And I'm over-reacting and feeling academically insecure. But still. . .
Tonight's event went better. Well, after getting lost finding our way to the dinner location. We went the wrong way down 40th. Then later discovered the place wasn't on West 40th, but West 39th. We found it eventually, grabbed the sparkling wine, then jumped into place chopping herbs, mushrooms, garlic, and onion for the portion of dinner we were making. Next we moved to wine-tasting. Followed by a delicious meal with another 3 wines. Then a tiramisu dessert with a dessert wine. Conversation flowed more easily tonight. I sat next to a New York associate whose wife is from China and has a 5 year old and a one year old. Also at the table was a small group of associates from the D.C. office. Their office sounds pretty entertaining.
After dinner, we walked around a bit, and then my friend Jennie and I bumped into one of those D.C. associates in the lobby of our swank hotel. They were getting ready to head out (and we're off to bed), but Jennie had a little more than half a giant bottle of Saki left from dinner last night, so she gave it to them. They were shocked. And thrilled. And they invited us to go to the village with them (I had to ask if that meant Greenwich Village-- it does). We declined. I told them we're too old and couldn't handle anymore liquor tonight. We all laughed. Then we headed up to our rooms and they headed out.
I'm feeling much better about the people. Still old, though. And still missing my family.
Last night we arrived just in time for the cocktail hour. The food was yummy and the wine was nice. But, well, I pretty much suck at small talk. I suppose not always. I mean, I'm a talker. But I had trouble finding common ground. I'd met a couple really nice, friendly people early on. Then I felt my phone ring, and I saw it was a message from the school district. So I disappeared into the coat closet to listen to the message (over 300 students and 20 staff members lost their homes in the wild fires last week). I scared the heck out of an associate in the San Francisco office who had stepped into the coat closet to hang up her coat. But we got to talking. And she was super cool, so that was nice. I met some other nice San Francisco folks, a couple interesting people from Silicon Valley. And (finally) it was time for dinner.
I was put in a group of 8 to go to Bobby Flay's (is that how you spell his name?) restaurant Bar Americain, where I indulged in some rib eye, some asparagus, and a diet coke. Everyone seemed really . . . well, young. They chatted on and on about the cooking channel (yes, I realize Top Chef has nothing to do with age). Then the subject turned to Saved by the Bell and I knew I was in trouble. I couldn't even remember screeches name. And my childhood shows-- 90210 and Melrose Place-- were apparently popular while the other 7 people in my group were in middle school.
No one else was married or had kids. Everyone else, except my friend from the San Diego office, had essentially gone straight through from undergrad to law school, and most of them were graduates of big-name schools-- Stanford, Yale, Boalt, and Harvard.
At one point I asked a San Francisco associate who had mentioned a couple times that her brothers live in San Francisco if she lived with either of her brothers. I figured this was an innocent enough question. After all, I lived with my older brother when he was a first year associate. And even after I moved out, my younger brother moved in-- and lived with Bob through Bob's marriage and the birth of Bob's first child. Bob was in his early 30s when Bryan got married and moved out.
Anyway, she scrunched up her face and said, "Ew. No. I mean, I couldn't live with my brother. He's old. He's 32."
I laughed heartily and said I didn't think 32 was old-- I'm 33 and will be 34 next month. And besides, I explained, my brother had one of us living with him well into his thirties. Heck, depending on how you look at it, my sister still lives with him (albeit in a separate apartment in his building, but she hangs out in the main house a lot). And then we promptly changed the subject.
But I couldn't shake feeling old. All day long. I called home throughout the day to see how the kids were doing (Marcie was hanging out with Aunt Megan and Casey had a blast at Kaitlyn's birthday party, but baseball and music class were canceled because of the fires). And I missed them terribly. All day long.
Of course I'm not the oldest person here. And I'm not the only first year associate who has kids. And I'm over-reacting and feeling academically insecure. But still. . .
Tonight's event went better. Well, after getting lost finding our way to the dinner location. We went the wrong way down 40th. Then later discovered the place wasn't on West 40th, but West 39th. We found it eventually, grabbed the sparkling wine, then jumped into place chopping herbs, mushrooms, garlic, and onion for the portion of dinner we were making. Next we moved to wine-tasting. Followed by a delicious meal with another 3 wines. Then a tiramisu dessert with a dessert wine. Conversation flowed more easily tonight. I sat next to a New York associate whose wife is from China and has a 5 year old and a one year old. Also at the table was a small group of associates from the D.C. office. Their office sounds pretty entertaining.
After dinner, we walked around a bit, and then my friend Jennie and I bumped into one of those D.C. associates in the lobby of our swank hotel. They were getting ready to head out (and we're off to bed), but Jennie had a little more than half a giant bottle of Saki left from dinner last night, so she gave it to them. They were shocked. And thrilled. And they invited us to go to the village with them (I had to ask if that meant Greenwich Village-- it does). We declined. I told them we're too old and couldn't handle anymore liquor tonight. We all laughed. Then we headed up to our rooms and they headed out.
I'm feeling much better about the people. Still old, though. And still missing my family.
Monday, October 01, 2007
New Day, New Job
Today I started my new job. I'm not an attorney yet. You have to be admitted to practice to be considered an attorney. I'm just a law school grad being paid to work as, basically, a law clerk. Which means conducting research, writing memos, doing grunt and shadowing real-life attorneys.
Of course, I didn't do any of that today. Today was a luxuriously slow-start to what I hope will be a busy career. Today we attended and participated in computer training. Which consisted of reviewing how to access, edit, and send documents which are all housed in a central computer. We ate lunch and listened to the firm's risk management presentation, which was a reminder of our professional responsibilities. Aside from not being able to call myself a lawyer yet, I am also forbidden from giving any legal advice to friends or family. Ever. About anything. Unless they are clients of the firm. So I can't help you with your divorce, write your will, or review your prenuptial. Sorry. But I can refer you to someone who can. I know. It's not the same thing.
Later we attended more computer training. We tried to access the firm's version of Instant Messenger, but alas we have been deactivated, so we were not able to. We were able to access the firm's legal files and figure out how to request case files. We also viewed a Welcome message from the firm's Managing Partner, which was short and to-the-point (he scores big points for brevity!). And we filled out some paperwork, most of which I was unsure of and took home (like my California withholding form suggests that I withhold seven exemptions-- I must have done it wrong, because I always withhold zero and still end up owing something at the end of each year!). Finally, we were sent off with our keycards and parking passes.
The most important decision I'll likely have to make in the next week is which gym to join. I'm already a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but I can't use the Sport clubs. The firm was offering a deal for something like $24/month with no sign-up fees for all clubs. There's one near the downtown office, but it's about 6 blocks away. Across the street from the firm is the Y, which was supposedly renovated in the winter of 2006. It gets mixed reviews, but it's only $38 for membership and a whole lot more convenient. Plus it has a towel service. For $77/month, my whole family can join and we can go to any YMCA, including the one closer to our home. This is tempting for obvious reasons. Finally is Pure Fitness, which is in the building. It's $59/month, but it has clean facilities, classes and exercise equipment outside (the down side of that being that people in higher-up floors can look out their windows and see you exercising), and an amazing locker room with towel service. Plus every treadmill has a personal DVD player (the ones at the Y do have individual TV screens, or so I hear). But the cardio room is cramped and a little musty. So do I go for the least expensive, least convenient option, or the most expensive and most convenient one? I really don't know. For now, I'm doing nothing. I'm going to try running at night or in the morning at home, like I have been, and see how that goes. But as winter fast approaches, I know that will get harder and harder to motivate myself to do.
Today's trainings were in one of our San Diego offices, but my personal office will be downtown, and tomorrow I get to find out exactly where my personal office space will be. There's some down-time in between training sessions tomorrow, so I'm hopeful I'll be able to hit up one of the senior associates or partners for some good old-fashioned work. I know, I know. There's plenty of time for work-- but geez, I'd like to not fall behind in billables my very first week. Plus tomorrow evening is a big wine and cheese shindig for the Lawyer's Club, which I'll be attending. I'm not a great schmoozer, so these social events with the larger legal community are hard for me to feel excited about. . .
Anyway, that's how things went. I was a little homesick my friends at my old job. I wonder what they did today. I bet they sat in a whole heck of a lot of meetings-- not unlike me, actually. But at least they had each other. Which isn't to say I don't have anybody. The other first year associates are actually fun people. But, you know, change is, well . . . different.
Of course, I didn't do any of that today. Today was a luxuriously slow-start to what I hope will be a busy career. Today we attended and participated in computer training. Which consisted of reviewing how to access, edit, and send documents which are all housed in a central computer. We ate lunch and listened to the firm's risk management presentation, which was a reminder of our professional responsibilities. Aside from not being able to call myself a lawyer yet, I am also forbidden from giving any legal advice to friends or family. Ever. About anything. Unless they are clients of the firm. So I can't help you with your divorce, write your will, or review your prenuptial. Sorry. But I can refer you to someone who can. I know. It's not the same thing.
Later we attended more computer training. We tried to access the firm's version of Instant Messenger, but alas we have been deactivated, so we were not able to. We were able to access the firm's legal files and figure out how to request case files. We also viewed a Welcome message from the firm's Managing Partner, which was short and to-the-point (he scores big points for brevity!). And we filled out some paperwork, most of which I was unsure of and took home (like my California withholding form suggests that I withhold seven exemptions-- I must have done it wrong, because I always withhold zero and still end up owing something at the end of each year!). Finally, we were sent off with our keycards and parking passes.
The most important decision I'll likely have to make in the next week is which gym to join. I'm already a member of 24 Hour Fitness, but I can't use the Sport clubs. The firm was offering a deal for something like $24/month with no sign-up fees for all clubs. There's one near the downtown office, but it's about 6 blocks away. Across the street from the firm is the Y, which was supposedly renovated in the winter of 2006. It gets mixed reviews, but it's only $38 for membership and a whole lot more convenient. Plus it has a towel service. For $77/month, my whole family can join and we can go to any YMCA, including the one closer to our home. This is tempting for obvious reasons. Finally is Pure Fitness, which is in the building. It's $59/month, but it has clean facilities, classes and exercise equipment outside (the down side of that being that people in higher-up floors can look out their windows and see you exercising), and an amazing locker room with towel service. Plus every treadmill has a personal DVD player (the ones at the Y do have individual TV screens, or so I hear). But the cardio room is cramped and a little musty. So do I go for the least expensive, least convenient option, or the most expensive and most convenient one? I really don't know. For now, I'm doing nothing. I'm going to try running at night or in the morning at home, like I have been, and see how that goes. But as winter fast approaches, I know that will get harder and harder to motivate myself to do.
Today's trainings were in one of our San Diego offices, but my personal office will be downtown, and tomorrow I get to find out exactly where my personal office space will be. There's some down-time in between training sessions tomorrow, so I'm hopeful I'll be able to hit up one of the senior associates or partners for some good old-fashioned work. I know, I know. There's plenty of time for work-- but geez, I'd like to not fall behind in billables my very first week. Plus tomorrow evening is a big wine and cheese shindig for the Lawyer's Club, which I'll be attending. I'm not a great schmoozer, so these social events with the larger legal community are hard for me to feel excited about. . .
Anyway, that's how things went. I was a little homesick my friends at my old job. I wonder what they did today. I bet they sat in a whole heck of a lot of meetings-- not unlike me, actually. But at least they had each other. Which isn't to say I don't have anybody. The other first year associates are actually fun people. But, you know, change is, well . . . different.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)