Laid off 101

It was Friday, August 15, 2008, 11:37am, 1 year and 331 days after I, fresh out of law school, started working at a corporate law firm in New York. I was called into the head partner’s office, knowing nothing more than (a) head partner was about to leave on his annual 2-week end-of-August vacation and (b) I forgot to grab my breakfast bar on the way out that morning. The meeting itself was all sort of a blur, but I vaguely remember the words “tough economy,” “tightening up” and “really really hate to do this” somehow finding their way to my ears in the midst of my hysterical, pants-tugging, wailing hodgepodge of “how can this be happening to me?” with a little bit of “but I was voted most likely to succeed in high school” and the always-appropriate “I [sniff sniff] thought [sniff] you looooved me!”

Now, back to the beginning…

I was born on October 31, 1981 at 8:10pm. Mom said the doctor wasn’t so happy that I, already three weeks overdue, decided to make my grand entrance just as he was getting ready to take his little kids trick-or-trea—

Okay, maybe not that far back…

About two years ago, I moved up from DC to New York to start working as a junior corporate associate at one of those fancy pants law firms in midtown Manhattan. Yeah, life was pretty much awesome — especially the part where people I met would ask me what I did and then, after giving all five feet of me a once-over, laughed and said “You’re a corporate lawyer? Sorry, but you look way too short and sweet to be a corporate lawyer.” (That’s usually when I had to whip out my portable step ladder, climb up a few feet, glare down, snap my fingers just so, and educate them on the limits of my alleged “sweet”ness.)

It’s hard to say what really brought me to corporate law in the first place. Until the middle of my junior year at the University of Florida, I really wanted to be a criminal psychologist. I took a bunch of criminology courses (eventually graduating with that major) but somewhere along the way, I realized that working with bad and/or socially maladjusted people all day long might get a little depressing (also, coincidentally, the reason I decided against a degree in elementary education). Eventually, I decided to go to law school. My original goal was to become an adoption lawyer (and that goal is still somewhere in my thoughts nowadays).

By my third year of law school, I was hired in the corporate department of the fancy pants firm and, after taking the New York Bar Exam, found an apartment and moved up to New York that September.

A lot of the stuff I worked on as a corporate associate was pretty interesting, and by my second year I actually got to help draft some contracts for multi-million dollar deals, which was exciting for me. Mostly though, I did typical junior associate stuff – proofread contracts and checked cross-references, researched corporate law issues, sifted through volumes and volumes of due diligence, and acted as the little gopher dispatched to various closings around the city to confirm signatures and bring back originals. The hours were sometimes rough, especially in the winter — I remember a couple times when I watched two consecutive sunrises (my office faced east) wearing the same suit, and another time when I was holed-up in a conference room with six other lawyers for 32 hours straight. Those were always the battle stories my family loved hearing when I went home for Thanksgiving.

I never really “enjoyed” the work, and certainly had no desire to become a partner at my firm. And even though I sometimes worked hard to convince myself otherwise, I was plainly aware that this was not the best career choice for me – that I needed something where I could be, well, more creative (and less tough), more inspired (and less anxious), more “sweet,” I guess. Huh, maybe the critics were right all along.

In reality, of course, the August 15th meeting didn’t actually go down as described. I didn’t cry. I never cry (okay, almost never). I walked back calmly to my office, closed my door, sat down in my chair and slowly, quietly, let it all soak in. And then, despite all circumstances and rational judgment warranting the exact opposite, I actually felt a twinge of excitement, knowing this was the opportunity I needed to take better control of my future – to re-evaluate my interests, my strengths and weaknesses, and my long-term goals. It was also an opportunity that, knowing myself, I would not have taken without a swift kick in the pants(uit) first, to get me moving.

While I am not an idealist by any means, I am confident that, after a more thoughtful and sober evaluation of my career options and goals (the kind of evaluation that was not generally considered vital to a profoundly debt-ridden 3rd year law student drooling over the promise of a superbly obese paycheck), I am going to look back on this experience, knowing it was just the catalyst to something even better.

Image by: digiart2001