There was a moment today between before and after. A moment when my world paused, and everything changed.
The Professor called me today (around 11:30?) to tell me that everything went fine in court, and it was done. A second. I said okay. Another second. Thanks for letting me know. Goodbye.
The expression, 'my ears swam'. It means something to me now. I heard the rush of the ocean, of wind, and nothing else.
Work was crazy today. I couldn't think straight. I was in meetings all afternoon. Ten minutes after the call, I went to a meeting, pissed a off partner by saying the wrong thing to the client. He was legitimately upset. What's the status of that issue? What? Issue? What? I have no idea what you're talking about. No idea what you even just said. Did you say something? Do I work here?
For three hours, I didn't have a single logical thought. Just emotion, just mental chaos. Just the ocean roaring through my brain.
I should have stayed home today. Instead, I billed twelve hours. For thirty seconds, I sat on my office floor and cried. Sobbed. If you can sob in thirty seconds. Then I went to another meeting.
I have more to say. But I just can't say it tonight. I want to say it thoughtfully, with perspective and peace, and I don't have any of that at the moment.
But I will. I know I will. Just give me tonight to cry.
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label work. Show all posts
5.05.2011
It Happens
The office was quiet today. Too much work to do, but quiet nonetheless. I spent most of my day doing research on the computer. After eight or nine hours spent staring at pixels, I looked up and outside, noticed how the sky and lake melted together in a gray haze. And I realized that my husband left me.
I started crying.
It happens.
4.05.2011
684 Days
No, the title of this post does not refer to the number of days since my last post. Nor does it refer to the number of days that have passed since the Professor asked for a divorce --although I feel like I've aged at least two years over the last six months and 28 days. Rather, the title of this post refers to the 684 days since my last day of work at my old law firm. Yes, I've had a 684 day "vacation," as certain of my proud family members call it.
In theory, a two year break from work certainly seems like it would be a welcome vacation. And it should have been. But, in reality, I've spent much of the last 684 days navigating the murky waters of depression, marital dissatisfaction, death and divorce. Fun times.
Tomorrow I'm returning to litigation, also known as hell on earth. Other than the occasional nightmare in which I'm being fired for missing a typo in a brief, I haven't thought about litigation, or the law, in almost two years. I don't remember how to bluebook a case citation or have a subpoena issued. I should be terrified. Oddly, I'm not.
Instead, I'm excited. I'm excited about childish details like having an office, a business card, and a reason to wear heels. A reason to get dressed before ten a.m. And actually wash my hair. I'm also excited about feeling useful, even if it is as someone's billable hour slave.
Perhaps I'm not terrified because I've adapted, I've forgotten what it's like to live the stress and anxiety of litigation on a 60 hour per week basis. I'm sure that's true to some extent. But I like to think (or hope) that it's mostly because the last 684 days have changed me, have changed my perspective about what's worth getting stressed over, what's scary enough to be afraid of, what can kill me and what can't.
I've been lucky to have these 684 days. I've been blessed to have the utter freedom of endless hours with no one to answer to, and morning coffee on the back porch with my dogs. But more importantly, I've been blessed to learn that court deadlines, screaming partners and missed typos are not even close to the worst things I can get through with grace and dignity. And that, I will do.
In theory, a two year break from work certainly seems like it would be a welcome vacation. And it should have been. But, in reality, I've spent much of the last 684 days navigating the murky waters of depression, marital dissatisfaction, death and divorce. Fun times.
Tomorrow I'm returning to litigation, also known as hell on earth. Other than the occasional nightmare in which I'm being fired for missing a typo in a brief, I haven't thought about litigation, or the law, in almost two years. I don't remember how to bluebook a case citation or have a subpoena issued. I should be terrified. Oddly, I'm not.
Instead, I'm excited. I'm excited about childish details like having an office, a business card, and a reason to wear heels. A reason to get dressed before ten a.m. And actually wash my hair. I'm also excited about feeling useful, even if it is as someone's billable hour slave.
Perhaps I'm not terrified because I've adapted, I've forgotten what it's like to live the stress and anxiety of litigation on a 60 hour per week basis. I'm sure that's true to some extent. But I like to think (or hope) that it's mostly because the last 684 days have changed me, have changed my perspective about what's worth getting stressed over, what's scary enough to be afraid of, what can kill me and what can't.
I've been lucky to have these 684 days. I've been blessed to have the utter freedom of endless hours with no one to answer to, and morning coffee on the back porch with my dogs. But more importantly, I've been blessed to learn that court deadlines, screaming partners and missed typos are not even close to the worst things I can get through with grace and dignity. And that, I will do.
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