None of my girlfriends who are lawyers are still lawyers...No. 1

I definitely plan to go back to work someday. It's just a question of when. Right now, I'm thinking more babies first, then back to work.:) We'll see. Being home with [baby] is just so much fun!

o, before this? I was a lawyer for a while No. 1

Maybe we always find what we are looking for.

I am noticing a lot of really interesting people who used to be lawyers. Way more than people who are still lawyers.

So, let's start the collection.

The owner of Sweet Adeline, my local fantastic bakery on the Oakland/Berkeley border.

Her bio reads (in part):
After putting in my days at a NY midtown law firm, I would head downtown and be the night baker at Pie In The Sky. I was hooked. I went to the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park.
...
Now I run Sweet Adeline. At this point I do not have the same feel for baking that I used to. That is where the other bakers come in. What I try to do now is juggle everything so that we can open the doors on a daily basis and greet you warmly.

And bless her for doing it!

Health Insurance- another way your life is there to improve theirs

So, to insure my husband? $580/month. What?! He is a 29 year old doctor who can just go run 26 miles and daily drinks a "shake" full of vitamins and every healthy not yummy thing in the fridge that I have scorned. Puh-lease!

So WHY does it cost that much?

Because the insurance company bases it all on what the firm pays as a whole divided by heads insured. We are subsidizing their benefits. Not just the partners who actually work. Not just the slow moving grey haired COO. It's the reallly old guys, too. Those ancient guys you see in the elevator occassionally who come in every week and have those great offices that look even fancier because **they don't even have computers in them** -- they are making my health insurance cost more than a lease on a porsche SUV!

Privately, I can insure myself for under $150/month. But apparently the young associates paying off their loans, buying a second suit, building up enough savings to pay for the fiasco our parents have left us and the secretaries trying to insure their kids should have to pay rates inflated because of the named partner who can't just retire. He still has a secretary. She brings him the newspaper and goes to lunch with him.

Maybe I could trade for HER job.

Approaching This Scientifically

today it occurs to me to think about this sociologically.

in the interest of full disclosure, I admit that I have never taken a sociology course or even really read enough course descriptions in college to really know what it is. but this is my based on my guess.

I will examine the teams. Who thinks I should be a lawyer and why. Who doesn't think I should be a lawyer and why.

The Pro-Lawyers

1. My dad. My dad is so excited that his daughter graduated from a top law school. He is so excited that I practice law. I think he feels sort of vindicated. His asshole parents always treated him- and us- like screw-ups. Which is weird because my dad is super smart, just a little unruly. So here he's been treated like a failure for half a century and then boom, his baby out performs them. He also likes talking to the people who come through his nursery (shoutout for dad- if you need a living gift for someone try www.japanesemaples.com- I guarantee a good time) about his lawyer daughter. I think it makes all those suburban struggler and judgers pause for a second and reconsider this crazy tree farmer out in the boonies.

2. My husband's family. Aunts in particular. They love us like you read about in novels. But money. You just cannot quit in this economy.

4. My husband's best friend and tax guru. You CANNOT quit your job. Unless you have one that pays more.

5. All my friends here. They havent known me as long. I've always been like this to them. The economy is terrible. You need to stick with it.

The Anti-Lawyers

1. My brother. Almost 25 years old and wandering around Asia with a camera avoiding finishing college. He has a degree from a photo school in photojournalism and is"building a portfolio." (lil shameless marketing- HE is actually entertaining: www.milemarker7.blogspot.com) He is a *damn* fine photographer- and I have studied photography and am more than happy to find fault in him so that's a legit accolade. He emails from Nepal, "There is nothing lame about doing what is going to make you happy in life. I realize I have never sat you down to have a talk but I wanted to tell you to quit this job for ages. Be happy. Take the chance to be as confident and happy in your professional life as you are in your personal."

2. My best friend from college. With the safety net of a supportive dad (supportive in both of the key ways- in theory and, when necessary, with the occasional cash infusion for things like a dress to wear an event or a plane ticket to somewhere important), she works for a reallllllly interesting, well-regarded non-profit doing important work that moves her and has an edge of excitement. "I'd be proud of you."

3. My therapist. Whom I adore and wouldn't be able to afford. Lawyers are the least fulfilled professionals in America. It is especially unfulfilling for women. She works with tons of attorneys- all miserable. she cannot understand how a profession can survive despite treating people the way law treats lawyers.

4. My former lawyer girlfriends. "That's why I love you. Just enjoy life. Be free."

The Torn
1. My husband. (a) We just bought a house. JUST. It is TERRIFYING. The bills NEVER stop. The shower broke before I even set foot in the door. The taxes are INSANE. (Hello! I pay $180 semi-annually for libraries. I love libraries and all, but I have suddenly become a far more frequent patron!) And then there is that mortgage thing. Ouch. And then there are....you get the idea. We bought a house in Berkeley and then I quit the six figure job. (b) On the other hand, I am TERRIBLE company when I am a lawyer. I cry. I never smile. I toss and turn. I bail on parties, dates, chores I promised to do. I hate my life and I bring those around me down. (c) When we met, I was cool. I worked for legal aid. That is a decent thing to do with your life. He respected me. Now I work for a firm. No respect.

2. My mother. Expects me to be the square in a nuclear family of black sheep. Thinks I am so capable. Money is part of it. On the other hand, she thinks it "teaches people to think a certain way" that apparently is a bad way. Reminds me that she was never all that supportive of me doing this. I mean, she is proud of my accomplishments of course. But she thinks lawyers are assholes.

3. My best friend. Practical. She loves me and wants me to be happy. But there are bills to pay, resumes to build.

Now, we have to balance the quantity of the Pros against the quality of the Antis.

1. Many of the Pros are new in our lives. They don't understand this as weird for me. I have just always been a lawyer-loathing lawyer to them.

2. They mostly share one concern: munnie.

3. The Antis care deeply for me as little me. Idealistic me. Real me.

4. The Antis share my values more than the Pros.

5. The Antis are doing things with their lives that I want to be doing with mine. The Pros are not. The Pros are paralegals, librarians, CPAs. The Antis are living life the way I want to live life.

So, I think a coalition of the Antis with a little help from the Torn win.

But there you have it. By nature, we we will hear the evidence that supports our own hypothesis. Whatever. I think I'm right.

Bob Scott Was Right

In the fall of 2002, as another successful round of contracts came to a close, Professor and former Dean Scott addressed his disciples. "Some of you," he called them out, "do not love this." Ha! Rocket scientist. Of course we do not love this, I thought. What's to love? Then, suddenly, it occurred to me. Some of us, no them!, some of THEM actually LOVE this!

Some of them love this.

"You aren't going to listen to me." Scott went on. Wide tie, double breasted suit, small, bright blue eyes. Had recently told us that we weren't as smart as his Columbia students, but we had better hearts. Just what law students want to hear. No, at that point, those of us he hadn't lost at consideration or at part performance or at the house on the quick sand or whatever, stopped listening.

"But, if you don't love it now, you aren't going to love it in three years or in ten years or in 20 years, so you should really stop now. Cut your losses and go find something you do love."

He was right. About everything. He was right that we weren't going to listen. He was right that I did not love it then, that I did not love it 3 years later and now, six years later, I still do not love it.

In fact, I hate it. I hate it when it wakes me up at 3 AM with anxiety. I hate it even more when it wakes me up at 3 AM to start working again. I hate that I go to work for a paycheck. I hate that I represent the bad guys. I hate the structure. I hate the practice. I hate discovery. I hate the people. They are perfectly nice people. OK, some of them are total jackasses still preening like the high school softball stars they once were, or, maybe worse, jackasses preening like the aging version of the losers they were in high school, but most of them are fine people and some of them are really extraordinarily nice people. But I hate them anyway. I hate them when they say how are you and I have to same I'mgreatthankshowareyou when really I would rather be locked in a port-o-potty for ten hours. I hate them when they don't say how are you. I hate them when I eat it for their mistakes. I hate them when I have to sacrifice to hide other peoples' mistakes. I hate them when they call me out for my mistakes. I hate the clients. I hate opposing counsel. I hate pro pers. I hate judges. I hate clerks. I hate catty secretaries.

So, why do I do it?

Fear.
Fear of becoming un-hire-able. Fear of wasting my degree. Fear of all that debt. Fear of never getting ahead. Fear of never being able to retire. Fear of never seeing Santorini. Fear of wanting all those adorable anthropologie dresses and not being able to ever buy them. Fear of not eating organic. Fear of my parents' lack of retirement plan. Or maybe of being my parents' retirement plan. Fear of not having the paycheck. Fear of not being high up on all those pecking orders. Yes, I am the littlest attorney. But I am not a secretary, a librarian, a paralegal, a receptionist, a floater, a temp, a contractor, a vendor, a clerk, a barista, a sandwich maker, a dry cleaner. Fear of losing my house. Fear of not being impressive. Fear of unexpected expenses. Fear of health insurance companies.

and, well,
Lack of creativity/ any other marketable skill.
Sadly, I have no skills. I don't know what else I would do.
On our refrigerator is a magnet that someone thought was ~so us~. Well, someone thought was so him. "What would you do if you knew you could not fail." I pass it every time I reach for leftovers, butter, yogurt, inspiration, snacks. And I have never had the courage to even contemplate the answer. It's too big. It's too risky. It's too depressing.