October 29, 2003

Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

For those of you who haven't been paying attention, I work at a large law firm. Working at large law firms can be good and can be hellacious, depending on your situation. I have been blessed with an excellent situation for the two years I've been here. I've been working with a phenomenal attorney -- she is smart, funny, outspoken, thinks well on her feet and can crush opposing counsel into the ground without much effort. She has really taken me under her wing and acted as a mentor to me, helping me learn how to develop clients, how to maintain the clients you have, how to psych-out plaintiff's attorneys, how to write appellate briefs, and basically how to practice law. She has ensured that I've gotten every raise to which I'm entitled, has patted me on the back when I did something well, and has given me hugs and comforted me when I got so stressed out I started crying in my office.

And now she's leaving.

She came into my office on Friday and closed the door. She told me that, for the past several years she's been "stressed out" (this is like saying Bill Gates is kind of nerdy). While she loves practicing law, she doesn't like the effect that the accumulated stress has had on her. You have to understand that this isn't just a woman who practices law -- she's one of the biggest fish in the national pond of litigation in which I practice. She speaks at seminars all over the country, and has been appointed to several committees to help shape laws, because of her renown in the field. When she isn't working, she's on her cell phone or blackberry adivising someone else on what they should do with their cases, or she's travelling to another speaking engagement.

She can't take the breakneck pace any more. And frankly, I don't blame her. I never could figure out where she got the energy for as long as she had it. I was tearing up when she told me, trying (unsuccessfully) to put on a brave face. She told me not to cry, and all I could think to say was, "But I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay here and practice with me." And she replied, "I know, kiddo, and I appreciate that. But you don't need me any more. You are a different person than you were when you walked in the front door two years ago, and you're a different lawyer. You are an outstanding young lawyer and you don't need anyone standing in the wings telling you what to do. You know what to do."

And I know she's right. But I still can't get out of this funk I'm in. She is a wonderful boss, an outstanding mentor and a dear friend. I'm going to miss her.

Posted by Kitty at October 29, 2003 02:59 PM

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