Elvis has left the building...

Tonight, I walked out the door of the office at 6:00. Despite it being a Friday, that's the usual quitting time, particularly when big brother is watching all our comings and goings. It was like any other night, except that my key ring felt slightly lighter in my hand.

I said goodbye to Matt as he was heading over to crossfit, which I take full credit for getting him addicted to. Instead of just telling me to have a good weekend, he gave me a hug, warned me I'd be getting lots of calls with stupid questions and said things wouldn't be the same without me. The guy's only been at the office a little over a year...but he knows what a loss this is.

I had people coming into my office all day, looking at me shyly - saying they're not supposed to know that I'm leaving but they're so sorry to see me go. That they have loved working with me. Learning from me.

My assistant literally ran out of the office at the end of the day to avoid getting too emotional. Deanna is a tough cookie and I rarely ever see her shaken.

I got all misty just thinking about saying goodbye to Jay. I've been his associate since day 1 at the office seven years ago. He's been my mentor. He and his wife were at my wedding. I was at his daughter's wedding. When he moves into his new house, he'll invite me over for the housewarming. The truth is, I don't know how either one of us got through saying goodbye without crying.

Despite all of this, it still doesn't feel completely real.

Waking up Monday morning is going to be something like waking up the day after the bar exam... You wake up late, freaking out because you overslept and have to hurry up and study. Then realization dawns that there's no more studying to do... Only then do you think to yourself "I don't have to study...what the hell do I do now?"

Counting Down

My last day of work is Friday.

It's been very strange wrapping things up at the office. For the first time in seven years, I really have no desire to walk through the door. I had the best of intentions of finalizing all the stuff I had on my plate. I cannot make myself do it. I think for the entire month MAYBE I've billed 45 hours. (I'm supposed to bill 163.3)

I went to work today in a suit. I put on make up. All because I had a 3:00 meeting in a case with the clients and our court-appointed fiscal agent. And my boss announced that he was going to go instead of me. I know he didn't mean it as a slight. He has to learn this file and he knows no one knows it better than me. He also wanted to have the clients alone so that he could tell them that I am leaving the firm. But still...it stung a little that I wasn't going.

I removed all my diplomas and law licenses from my wall at the office tonight. It was a simple act. Certainly an inevitable one. And yet the finality of it has me wide awake in the middle of the night because I'm completely freaking out.

I know I did the right thing.

I know it's the best thing for me.

So why am I driving myself nuts second guessing everything right now?

Things I Never Thought I'd Hear Myself Say...

Sweetheart, I appreciate the sentiment... But "And the Yankees win!" is not part of the Passover seder.

Andrew, I'm very proud of you, but when we leave this bathroom, please don't announce to the entire restaurant that you went pee-pee in the potty and that you did it standing up.

NO! The waitress does NOT need to hear that the donkey at the petting zoo was pooping.

But most of all, "I quit" is not something I really expected to hear myself say.

I gave notice at work today. I agonized over finding the right words all weekend. I dreaded telling my direct boss. I love working for him and it hurt the most telling him that I leaving. In 7 years, I've never seen the guy rendered speechless, but today he was pretty damn close. I still hadn't fully recovered from that conversation when I closed the door to the managing partner's office.

Although I had perfectly scripted things out in my own head, the reality often comes out pretty different. I knew as soon as I opened my mouth that if I didn't go with the brief version, I would never get through it. I still don't know how I got through both those meetings without crying...

In the morning I'll have one more tough conversation - with a partner who I know wanted me to stay and fight. Maybe he sees this as caving. Except this is me fighting. It's far harder to leave and start over again somewhere new, standing up for the woman and attorney that I am, then to stick around and force myself into the mold they want me to fit myself into if I stayed.

I deserve to play for a team who values me for me, my talents and what I bring to the table. I know what I did was right and ultimately will be the best thing for me. But I'm still a bit freaked out by the change...

Yeah, this post has been pretty random. I spent all my energy trying to have coherent conversations with these guys at work. And I think right now, I'm going to drag my ass up to bed and hopefully get my first good night's sleep in a week...

Empty

The week started off like any other. I rolled out of bed, happy that we seemed to have finally found the key to getting Andrew to sleep through the night. Amazingly, it was as simple as putting Food Network on the tv in his room. (Apparently when we changed the channel one night to watch something, around 1:00 every morning the programming turned "scary" and either screams or gunshots from some variation of Law and Order would wake him up and freak him out)

We got up early and I managed to cruise into the office before 8, giving me the ability to start in on banging out a motion before most people got to the office. Around 9:15, the head of the commercial lit department buzzed me and asked if I could come join him in his office. When I walked in, another partner was sitting there. Oh-oh was the first thought that went through my head...

I had no idea...

The equity partners had met that morning and voted to cut my hours and pay by 20%. They questioned my commitment to the firm. To my own development as an attorney. To say that I was floored by their decision is the understatement of the century.

In subsequent meetings, which have consumed virtually every day of the week, I learned that they never talked to my direct boss about this - the guy who has gone out of his way to mentor me since the day I set foot in the office, who I've worked on every single one of his files for the past seven years. The partners seem to want this to be something that I'll look back on "fondly" in a year as the kick in the ass I needed to be the best possible Jaime I could be. And these guys actually thought that I would "embrace" this.

After 7 years, I can say definitively that they don't know me at all.

How can they question my commitment to the firm? I'm still the same person who last winter practically moved into the office, working 21 hours a day to get a trial together. There was nothing that I didn't do, manage, handle. The partner wanted for nothing - because I anticipated everything he needed and did it better than he expected. Because of my work, we achieved a phenomenal result for the client. I'm still the same girl who, six months later, learned an entire new area of law in a week to get ready for another trial because the partner whose file it was hadn't learned admiralty law during the course of his 3 years living that file.

They don't think I get my name out there? Show me another attorney who has published 20 articles in ONE year. To write those articles, I have to be in regular contact with bar leaders across the state and the country. And I'm now the editor-in-chief of both state and national publications. I have a higher ranking position in the hierarchy of the national organization than anyone else in my office. I sit as a member of senior leadership of the bar, on counsel (which makes all the strategic plans for the organization) and am one of two people in line to be the next communications director of a national organization.

My biggest client generates more than double my salary. Show me one other associate who can say that ONE client generates that much income for the firm.

I've gone out of my way to mentor every new attorney who has come through the office. I make the people around me better attorneys. And isn't that exactly the kind of player you'd want on your team? Someone who elevates the play of the whole team simply by being on the same field...

I suppose that I can say this slap in the face has been one hell of a wake up call. I suppose it did make me think about the kind of attorney I am and that I want to be. And I need to be somewhere that my talents and my contributions are actually appreciated... Unfortunately I'm not at an office who seems to acknowledge anything that I do for them.

Illusion

Her life was a carefully crafted illusion.

By all outward appearances, she had a perfect life. Good job. Nice house. Loving marriage. Bright, beautiful twin girls. She was one of those annoying women who lost the baby weight almost immediately and, even to her own critical eye, she looked fantastic.

The truth? She laughed bitterly into her glass of Shiraz. She was miserable.

The pressure of her fast-paced job was damn near stifling. She wished someone had warned her that life on the Street wasn't as glamorous as it first appeared. The pay was high because your firm owned you. That the company-paid cell and beeper weren't cool - if those damn things went off, you better jump to answer.

The hours were long. The work was hard. Intense. Driving. Demanding. But, most of the time, she reveled in her ability to deliver results and satisfy even her most challenging clients.

No, the hardest part of her day was walking through the door after work.

She loved her girls. They were, without question, the best thing she had ever done with her life. The girls were blond haired, green eyed beauties. Cassie was all her - curiosity, intelligence, attitude, drive. In Danielle she also saw herself - the creative, the passion, the athleticism. Being with them was the highlight of her day.

While they greeted her warmly, throwing themselves into her arms, her husband met her at the door with a perfunctory kiss. They exchanged pleasantries, but largely stayed to themselves. She couldn't remember the last time he touched her...

She loved Steve. Promised to remain by his side through good times and bad, sickness and health, richer or poorer. Those were vows she took seriously.

So how do you tell that person that they're not enough? She wondered once again. Because while Steve was a great father and a wonderful agent, he was utter crap when it came to pleasing her. It was like he had just stopped trying. While she could put up with a lot of things, she couldn't fathom living without any kind of passion in her life.

A bolt of lightening lit up the night as the skies opened up, splattering water across her windows.
The crack of thunder unhinged the dam that kept her feelings carefully bottled up tight and tears slid down her cheeks, splattering across her pillow.

Settling back against the pillows, she prayed for sleep to claim her quickly and bring with it the escape she so desperately needed...

And so it begins...

Unless you've been living under a rock, you know that it was Opening Day this week. Facebook was full of posts from fans reveling in the beginning of the new season. It was also full of status updates asking questions like:

Ugh. Is it that time of year again?
WHAT is the big deal about Opening Day?
Isn't it just another baseball game?

First off, I immediately wanted to de-friend anyone who asked any of these questions. But in humoring them (and in case you are among the confused), the appropriate answers are:

Damn straight.
It's NOT just another baseball game.
And if you have to ask, you'll never understand...

I took Thursday off work. It was the last billable day of the month. It was doing a lovely mix of rain, sleet and snow out. I had a brief I needed to finish for the managing partner.

Wild horses couldn't have stopped me from being at the game...

In high school, I was never allowed to go to the game until my senior year. That year, it snowed on Opening Day. Not just a few flurries. We're talking full on snowstorm. They sold out of hot chocolate and coffee by the third inning. We made it through the game sucking down hot dogs trying to stay warm...

I've been to every Opening Day I could since then. Even if it meant taking the train back from Maryland or doing the 6 hour drive from Concord for the ballgame while I was in college and law school. Much to my mother's chagrin, I work Rosh Hashana, but I won't work Opening Day.

There's just something special about the day. Even when it's 20 degrees without the windchill and pouring rain (or driving snow).

It's the first trip into the Bronx with my dad and uncle, who I've been watching games with for the past 27 years. It's the ridiculousness of my father buying 37 programs to send to clients and schlepping them around the stadium or hoofing it quickly back to the car to drop them off before walking through the turnstiles. The first time stepping into the Great Hall, seeing all the pictures of the old Yankee greats...or the first time you head out to your seats and can take in the field and the players... it's just amazing. Even when the bleachers does their first roll call of the year, concluding with a rousing chant of "box seats suck" is special.

It's tradition. It's the end of a long cold winter without baseball - the first time checking out your team, with the season full of promise and potential. (Unless you're a Met fan anyway...)

And if you're not a fan, maybe you wouldn't understand. So you'll just have to trust me when I say, the only thing better than being there to support your team on Opening Day is being there cheering your team on when they win the World Series :)