Notes from the Breadline: Going Where There’s No Depression
Ed. note: Welcome to the latest installment of “Notes from the Breadline,” a column by a laid-off lawyer in New York. Prior columns are collected here. You can reach Roxana St. Thomas by email (at roxanastthomas@gmail.com), follow her on Twitter, or find her on Facebook.
It is spring, but the weather has turned cold again. My short-lived job is over; my short-lived relationship is over. One flat, grey day follows another. I am beginning to wonder whether my career is over, too.
A few days after Elisa cuts us loose, Olivia finally returns the phone call I made to ask her whether she had another assignment for me. “Roxanna, hiiii,” she coos breathily. She sounds surprised to find me at home.
“I guess the project ended early,” she says, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Soooorrry.” I wonder if she has practiced using this tone to comfort children who have failed to make the spelling bee finals. Or puppies, I think, half-expecting her next words to be, “who’s a good girl? You are! Yes, you are!” But she switches gears seamlessly, her voice brightening. “Well,” she chirps, “it’s probably nice to put your feet up after all that hard work, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I hear myself say flatly. “I worked like … a dog.”
“Then you definitely need a little break!” she effuses, sounding relieved. “Did you have a good experience, though? The people over at the Big Law firm are just great, aren’t they?”
I hold the phone out from my ear, wondering whether the caller I.D. will identify Olivia’s location as Bizarro World. In Bizarro World, “great” and “insufferable bitch” must be interchangeable terms. “It was really interesting,” I tell her, trying to sound upbeat. “In fact, I don’t even need a break. I’m ready to get right back on the horse!”
“Ohhh,” she says, as though I have asked her to lend me money. She tells me that she may have another “potential” project coming up, and has some “really interesting and exciting possible opportunities” for contract work. There is silence while, I assume, she pretends to look for exciting possible opportunities on her computer. For all I know she is scrolling through Craigslist or Law.com. I have an urge to ask her whether my friend, the troll, has found an exciting possible opportunity. Finally, I tell her to take her time looking and call me if anything comes up.
I need to do some errands, but the task of showering and getting dressed suddenly seems insurmountable. But why bother with proper attire when you have a long down coat? I think, and put it on over the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants I’m wearing. I glance at my disheveled hair in the mirror and decide that God made hats for many reasons (only one of which is cold weather), and that he probably also made Crocs for the members of his flock who are too unmotivated to look for their shoes. My outfit complete, I strike out.
Follow my adventures, after the jump.
The day is sunny and bright despite the cold, and the people I see on the street are dressed in light jackets, as though their optimism will bring spring weather. I wish cantankerously for rain, or a sudden snowstorm — anything that will make it okay to lie down and sleep until I feel better, or the market changes, or lawyers become employable again. As I trudge to the bank, I notice that people are looking at me strangely and giving me a wide berth on the sidewalk. “What’s the matter?” I feel like snapping. “Does unemployment look too yucky?”
When I walk into the bank, two young employees are standing near the front door, looking ready to pounce. They are probably only slightly busier than I am. “Can I help you with something today?” one, a woman who looks to be about twenty, asks eagerly. I wave her off, wishing I was invisible. A moment later, I realize that I am; as soon as I have turned my back she resumes her conversation with the other employee, who is also young and freshly-scrubbed. He is asking her about college courses she is taking.
“I’m gonna go to law school when I finish?” she says blithely. “I think I want to do, like corporate law?” Like most people her age, every thought is articulated as a question.
“Oh, yeah,” he says enthusiastically. “You can make mad phat money doing corporate law. Where you wanna work?”
“Oh, I could work anywhere,” she says. “Maybe like, a big office or a company or some shit?”
I drop my pen and turn around. “Don’t do it!” I want to shout. I want to tell her that it is a pipe dream; that the idea that law school will ensure a lucrative job or a secure future is a fantasy, or pure bullshit. The girl catches my eye and looks at me expectantly, but before I can say anything I catch a glimpse of my reflection in a shiny window. It is forty-five degrees out, but I am dressed in the functional equivalent of a sleeping bag. I can feel myself sweating in the overheated bank. When I look down, I realize that one leg of my sweatpants is tucked into my sock. And I am wearing rubber shoes. In short, I look crazy.
Your best laid plans may lead you here, I want to tell her, to the verge of ranting at a stranger in the bank while dressed in your pajamas and winter coat. I decide to say nothing.
I trudge home, feeling unfit to circulate in the general population. My mood does not improve: in fact, over the next few days, it worsens. I try to keep myself busy, sending out resumes, applying for jobs online, calling recruiters to remind them that I am still here, still waiting, and still jobless. After one such conversation, the recruiter tells me that he will keep me in mind if anything comes in. “Please don’t forget about me,” I say, and am surprised by how plaintive I sound, and how little hope I feel.
One day, I get an e-mail from a solo practitioner who has seen my resume online and wants me to come in for an interview. I call him and schedule a meeting for the following day, feeling faintly optimistic. When I arrive at his office, which is in one of the old, ornate buildings near Grand Central, my spirits are buoyed by the momentary sense that I am part of the bustle of commerce. A gilded chandelier in the lobby hangs over polished marble floors, and when I get out of the elevator upstairs my footsteps are cushioned by thick, red carpet. It feels anachronistic, but vaguely comforting.
But when I arrive at the suite I have written down, a door opens on a shared office space that is distinctly less grand. In fact, it reminds me of the war room I recently occupied, and I half-expect Mr. Potato Head to pop out from behind a plant, trailing a string of sausages. I try to ignore the sinking feeling that creeps through me as I sit in the reception area, waiting.
While I wait, the feeling grows stronger. Or maybe it just grows, like tumors do if given time and left unattended. Ten minutes pass, then twenty, then thirty. My irritation blossoms, and I find myself thinking that, if I were the Incredible Hulk, this inconvenience would push me over the edge. I picture my suit straining and bursting at the seams, and imagine a monstrous green version of myself storming through the wall and into the tardy lawyer’s office, leaving a Roxana-shaped hole in the Sheetrock. Then I would pick him up and toss him like a boomerang, bellowing, “Roxana MAD!! Lawyer no keep Roxana waiting!!”
Instead, I remain human. When the lawyer, a thin, cadaverous man who looks as though he escaped from the wax museum, comes out to fetch me, I quickly determine that I probably could toss him through the window, even without superhuman strength. He extends a limp hand and introduces himself as Asa, a name I have always associated with donkeys.
Once I am seated across from his desk, he tells me that he is looking for one associate to assist him in his solo practice. He takes out my resume and begins to pore over it. Silence descends. Minutes tick by. He tells me that he handles a lot of regulatory matters for shipping companies. Have I ever worked on such matters? No, I answer, not specifically. How about admiralty? No again. Well, he says, as though trying another tack, he also does some T&E work. Still nothing, I feel like saying. Between questions he scrutinizes my resume - probably, I suspect, trying to remember why he called me in for this interview. I think about how sometimes, when people are shopping, they try on clothes that they would never actually buy. I wonder if Asa is mentally twirling before the mirror before he decides to put me back on the rack. Maybe I make his ass look fat.
As Asa studies my resume, I stare out the window. Stay focused, I repeat silently, even as I feel myself drifting off. The sky is dark and ominous, and it looks as though it will pour any minute. I’m so sick of this shit, I think wearily. I’m sick of interminable waits in reception areas, and of sitting across from people like Asa. I’m sick of these meaningless interviews, and the cycle of hope and disappointment. I’m sick of working to maintain the illusion that my professional experience amounts to anything. I’m sick of asking for something I probably don’t want, and sick of being turned down when I do. I can see people scurrying into Grand Central, and I have an urge to escape, to go as far as I get can get from this miserable office.
Asa interrupts my reverie to ask if I have any questions. “No,” I say, smiling. I tell him that it has been a pleasure to meet him, and offer to show myself out.
By the time I get to the lobby, it is pouring. Two older men, one of whom is beautifully attired in a three-piece suit complete with a pocket watch, have just come in and are shaking themselves off like ducks. “Wait!” he says. “Don’t go out there, dear! You’ll get soaked.” He holds out his umbrella. “Take this. You can give it back to me another time. I’ll give you my card.” His kindness catches me off guard.
“That’s okay,” I tell him. “I won’t be coming back.” I walk out into the rain, and, within seconds, I am drenched. A clump of construction workers, hovered under an awning, whoops as I walk by, applauding. “Roxana no like being objectified!!” I picture my Hulk doppelganger yelling, tossing them aside like paper dolls. But I don’t care. I go home, peel off my wet clothes, and crawl into bed.
A few days later, my friend T.J. invites me over to his house. He knows that I love the TV show 30 Rock, and he has two seasons of it on DVD. As we watch, my mood lightens; I’m happy for human company — which I have been avoiding — and it feels good to laugh. Then we get to an episode in which the Tina Fey character, Liz Lemon, has a fight with her friend Jenna. In true sitcom fashion, they make up in the last scenes of the show. Although there is nothing serious about it, I feel an inexplicable lump rising in my throat. Moments later, tears are rolling down my face. T.J. is laughing too hard to notice at first, and by the time he does, I am crying too hard to catch my breath. “Are you crying?” he asks incredulously, with the stricken look of a man confronted with a tearful woman.
“I … don’t … know … what’s … the … matter … with … me,” I gulp between sobs. “I feel like I’m in a rut, and I don’t know how to get out.” I wipe my nose on my sleeve, feeling as though I am in first grade, and try to explain, but I am crying too hard. Each sentence I begin devolves into snot-choked gasping. “I don’t know if things are ever going to get better,” I wail, starting to hiccup. A wave of exhaustion washes over me. “I’m just … so … tired,” I say, between hiccups. I am tired; I haven’t been sleeping well, and it is finally catching up with me. But more than that, I am tired of living this way; tired of unrelenting fear, rejection, and grinding uncertainty.
“Aw, Roxie,” T.J. says, mopping my face clumsily with a sheaf of paper towels. “You’re depressed. Just remember: there are no accidents. We’re all leaves floating down a stream. Everything will be okay, since the stream always ends up in the same place.” He looks at me expectantly, as though anticipating the voices of the Bavarian Women’s Choir to soar, cueing enlightenment.
“I have no idea what the means,” I finally say. “I might be too tired for an epiphany.”
T.J.’s roommate is not home, so I lie down in his bed and close my eyes. I start thinking about the downhill rock. On the route I run with my girlfriends, there is a long, merciless uphill section, which can feel endless. You make the interminable slog, wondering whether you have the energy to keep running. But, eventually, when you see the rock, you know that the hill is over. The run itself is far from done; there are still several miles to go once you pass it. With the knowledge that the steepest part is behind you, however, they fly by. And, sometimes, just knowing that the downhill rock isn’t much further makes the hill that much easier to run up.
Where is the downhill rock in this situation? I wonder. If only I had some sense that things would get easier, I could keep running up this hill, fighting to breathe. If only I had some sense that there was a downhill rock … maybe I wouldn’t be so incredibly tired.
I close my eyes, waiting for the last few hiccups to pass. T.J. comes in and turns off the light. “Go to bed, Roxie,” I hear him say. “I’ll check on you in a little while.” I nod gratefully. Within moments, I am asleep.
___________________________________________________________________________
Roxana St. Thomas is a laid-off lawyer living in New York. You can reach her by email (at roxanastthomas@gmail.com), follow her on Twitter, or find her on Facebook.
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Comments
Well-written, but depressing.
You are too talented for Biglaw. I hope you get a book deal!
Fire Elie; hire Roxana.
Just give up.
As a county law librarian, I work mainly with solo, small law firm lawyers and self-representing litigants.
I feel sorry for the law firm librarians affected.
But daily, I work with many lower/mid-classes people who can not find/afford legal representation. Overall, county law libraries in California does a good job at empowering people. But just like giving people a wrench doesn't make them auto mechanic, giving people access to legal information is still far from giving them actual representation.
Isn't it funny how lawyers complains about not having jobs, while many people are complaining about not able to find lawyers to represent them?
As a county law librarian, I work mainly with solo, small law firm lawyers and self-representing litigants.
I feel sorry for the law firm librarians affected.
But daily, I work with many lower/mid-classes people who can not find/afford legal representation. Overall, county law libraries in California does a good job at empowering people. But just like giving people a wrench doesn't make them auto mechanic, giving people access to legal information is still far from giving them actual representation.
Isn't it funny how lawyers complains about not having jobs, while many people are complaining about not able to find lawyers to represent them?
Roxie -- I know this sounds like B.S. right now, but the fact that you got laid off from BigLaw is actually a blessing. You are obviously a talented writer, whose talent would only go to waste at BigLaw.
Sure, these will be a rocky few months, but use this as an opportunity to find something better. Not being stuck in BigLaw doing doc review (or some other mundane task) is one step closer to finding it.
Cheer up.
Time to get in line for doc review temp work, Roxana! Unless you're really attractive.
take your poor-sympathizing elsewhere, 5/6
In the next installment, Roxana awakes from her ruphenol-induced coma to find that TJ has finished with her and his roommate is now on top of her. Outraged at first, but finally seeing her “downhill rock epiphany”, she threatens to file a police report if they don’t each give her $40. She becomes a back-alley prostitute.
Good luck, Roxie; hang in there.
With enthusiasm and interview skills like that it is hard to imagine you haven't found anything yet!
Roxana, you are a fantastic writer. Seriously, I hope that you're getting paid well by ATL, as these are the only posts that still hold my interest here.
Oh boo hoo! You're extremely well educated and (probably) have most of your life ahead of you. It doesn't sound like you're starving or homeless, so suck it up. Lots of people have to make career transitions. Most of them have fewer talents than a big law alumnus.
Wow, that's an extremely well written post. Just, wow. I'm burbling on the inside for my friends in your situation.
Look, not ever in the history of the universe has a wave of unemployment derailed people's career dreams and wants. It'll be a loss when your (Roxana's) energy reverts to research memos and witness babysitting.
Thou writing skills are so grande thou ought to be entitled to a grande ole job at a prestigious gentlemen's firm.
10 made me laugh but I'm a sick bastard. This is well written and rings so true.
Wow, that's an extremely well written post. Just, wow. I'm burbling on the inside for my friends in your situation.
Look, not ever in the history of the universe has a wave of unemployment derailed people's career dreams and wants. It'll be a loss when your (Roxana's) energy reverts to research memos and witness babysitting.
giggling uncontrollably at "I lie down in his bed and closes my eye"
Roxie, you suck.
Sincerely,
Everyone at UVA
The article is quite sad, but I appreciate it. As a laid off Biglaw associate myself, it's nice to know that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Where is the downhill rock? I'm really not sure. With continued layoffs, salary freezes, and (most frightening of all) delayed start dates, it's clear that a real glut of associates currently exists in the market. Where will they go? When will they go? Why should I expect them to go when I have no inclination to go myself?
All good questions. All without answers.
(only one of which cold weather),
Is this the same attention to detail you gave your work product? Twice as funny here, where presumably there have been two levels of failure - one by the writer and one by the "editor" of this blog. Keep on keepin on!
I'm at UVA and I don't think Roxie sucks.
Excellent post Roxy. I’ve been there. Yup, when one is unemployed you don’t sleep or eat well. Can’t focus, dress poorly, detest sunlight, feel continually antsy, your hear races despite the fact that you are continually sitting on your ass, are routinely irritable and avoid people. Problem is once you a get another legal job in shitlaw you’ll still be stressed, won’t eat or sleep well, be bored stiff and think routinely about suicide. But you will be well dressed.
You hypocritical fucking commenters. You'd never let Elie get away with "only one of which cold weather" and "so I lie down in his bed and closes my eye".
That was by far the best edition of the series. I agree with commenter above, this layoff is a blessing. Package these up and go visit a publisher. Maybe you can get a book deal. If Anonymous Lawyer can get one anyone should be able to.
Roxana, you are a fantastic writer. Seriously, I hope that you're getting paid well by ATL, as these are the only posts that still hold my interest here.
It puts the lotion in the basket...
21,
See comment 5.
It occurs to me that Roxie can't help but demean the physical appearance of every attorney she comes in contact with. How shallow.
Pretty funny comment section: Most readers of this site don't bother reading and/or commenting on Roxana's horrendous ramblings. So the bulk of the comments (present comment excluded) are from Roxana, patting herself on the back. Seems like she is trying to psyche herself up for trying to land a real writing gig (at which she would fail miserably: ROXANA, YOUR WRITING SUCKS). Seriously, it is crazy to think that anybody, much less the majority of discrete commenters, actually likes her scribblings.
25 = Elie
25 - Those have been fixed now.
Roxie = 3500 sq ft SBF
30 - Wasn't that HOPE WINTERS? Remember her?
Roxana,
Maybe you should have taken the man's umbrella and business card since you are LOOKING FOR A JOB. Not brush off someone trying to help you out.
BECOME A HOOKER ALREADY
Good luck and hang in there. Ignore the negative trash on here...
Roxie, pay no attention to the haters, trolling this site. They were unloved as children.
Roxana - do not ignore your critics. Go back to working at Walmart.
Thanks for sharing, Roxana. I'm sure for every a*hole commenter there's someone who is feeling better because they're going through something similar.
/tries to look busy
Just print, bind and sell. This entire series has just been consistently incredible writing.
I hate you Roxana.
You clearly do not want to be employed. You blew off the interview and then when a nice gentleman offered you his card along with an obvious excuse to call him back and set up a meeting...you ignore it???
My guess is that all the praise and lavish encouragement for Roxana today is an ingenious troll campaign. BRAVO! Well-played!!!!!
good luck - there are lots of other associates out there who feel your pain.
Wow, could you be any dumber or lack in any networking skills.
The guy brings you in based on a skim of your resume and asks you about areas that you have no experience in but... Hello, it is called saying while your skill sets isn't exactly on point you could easily get caught up and feel your litigation skills would easily transfer to the maritime law area with an understanding of the code.
As for the older guy you met giving you an umbrella... take his card at least - who know where that could lead.
You deserve to be unemployed given your pretentious nature.
For me, the value of these installments is really put into doubt by the fact that these stories are, as ATL has admitted, fictional.
What would their value be?
Not to provide knowledge, because they are not the truth.
As entertainment? They don't seem that inherently entertaining. Interestingly, the fact they are fictional makes them less entertaining.
It would be far better to have a non-fictional account of a laid-off attorney's situation.
Ha! "T.J.'s roommate is not home, so I lie down in his bed and closes my eye."
Later I wake up and eats me spinach.
I agree this installment was one of the best, though I find it hard to believe that TJ didn't hit it.
I am glad everyone hates you, Roxana.
You can only polish a turd so much...
is it me or do the commenters appear to be alternating between autoadmit-ers with an ax to grind and members of Roxana's family?
Fear the hearts of men are failing
These are latter days, we know
The Great Depression now is spreading,
God's word declared it would be so.
I'm going where there's no depression
To a better land, that's free from care.
I'll leave this world of toil and trouble.
My home's in Heaven; I'm going there.
In this dark hour, midnight nearing
The tribulation time will come.
The storms will hurl the midnight fear
And sweep lost millions to their doom.
CHORUS
God these suck. STOP WRITING.
Another pretentious, entitled elitist brat who is too good to sign up at Hudson or Update Legal. You choose to be unemployed because you think you're too good for certain jobs.
Also, if you were that smart and talented you wouldn't troll on this board and shill yourself in such an obvious way. What a sad, arrogant attempt of self-glorification. Get off the computer and sign up for an agency for doc review or paralegal temp work or change professions.
By the way, my local Walmart is hiring. Maybe it's time to actually live up to your blog title's name.
"When I look down, I realize that one leg of my sweatpants is tucked into my sock. And I am wearing rubber shoes. In short, I look crazy."
Funny stuff. But also I appreciate the posts. I can't believe so many are so quick to judge. Problems that seem small to some people may seem huge to the people actually experiencing them.
I'm more curious about Roxy's current state. There's a lag between the posts and the present (which I'm sure is intentional). I hope there is good news coming.
So did TJ (or his roommate) hit it?
Also, you should always ask questions during an interview. You have no idea whether he would have offered you the job or not. Unless you were sure you wouldn't take it, you screwed up.
I enjoy these posts. I understand why you don't want to move, and how crazy and you can feel when you're unemployed or underemployed. It's awful, awful, awful. I'm glad you have someone like TJ to say positive things, even if they're not helpful yet, and let you spend the night.
And why did that guy call you in if he hadn't even looked at your resume? And made you wait for half an hour past your appointment? That bodes poorly.
Whenever I read these and they're set in the past, I'm always hopeful things have turned around by now. I'm anxious to see how you're doing real time.
This was a great post, Roxana. Keep your chin up. Things will get better.
In response to the 5/6 poster: Yes, there are a lot of highly educated, skilled unemployed lawyers looking for jobs, and those people who meander into your law library looking for books might benefit from an attorney. However, I strongly suspect that these people want an attorney to represent them for FREE. Tell me why, exactly, these unemployed attorneys, should work for free, and how will they pay their bills? Spare me the liberal, class warfare propaganda.
This was a great post, Roxana. Keep your chin up. Things will get better.
In response to the 5/6 poster: Yes, there are a lot of highly educated, skilled unemployed lawyers looking for jobs, and those people who meander into your law library looking for books might benefit from an attorney. However, I strongly suspect that these people want an attorney to represent them for FREE. Tell me why, exactly, these unemployed attorneys, should work for free, and how will they pay their bills? Spare me the liberal, class warfare propaganda.
Gotta agree with 47. You didn't take the interview seriously and didn't put any effort into trying to get the job . . . AND
You turn down a kind gesture and a business card from an apparently successful professional (success inferred from your description of his suit - should have given him a monacle instead of the pocket watch).
Your job search consists of posting resumes online and calling recruiters? If you continue to rely on Contract work, Monster.com and temp agencies in the hopes that some lucrative associate position is going to just fall in your lap, I predict a lot more of these breadline posts.
Get some real lawyering skills. Volunteer for a local Bar Association pro bono program. Look up what kind of attorney referral lists are offered in your jurisdiction for paid gigs, usually at the criminal level, such as conflict counsel lists. Network with friends and colleagues... taking that guys card would have been the easiest thing in the world, for instance, but you decided against it and a free umbrella because for some strange reason you enjoy being miserable.
You are a lawyer. The only person you actually need to be "hired" by is a client.
Reading this really did send chills down my spine, Roxana! You remind me of John Grisham, Michael Swiger, Stephen Horn, and Natasha Roit all at once! Except that you're a million times better than all of them! Wow!!!
did you and TJ hook up?
Totally agree with 44, 58 and 62. You may have blown an opportunity. No more whining.
So are these fiction as 48 claims or merely an exxageration of the actual truth?
I can't wait to see how Roxama describes her sobbing fit next week...
Roxana, it's clear you won't settle for anything less than exactly what you were doing before. Which means you'll be in limbo for quite awhile.
64 - Can I have some of whatever you are smoking? It must be some amaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaazing stuff!
Not the first to say, "Roxana, I hate you!"
*hug*
I was laid off from a BigLaw firm 6 months ago and only just accepted a job that I am mildly excited about. Every time I have read this column, I have found that it describes my range of emotions perfectly! This is spot-on. Particularly that tired, worn out, helpless feeling. It just plain sucks to go to a great law school, get a job at a "great" firm, and have it ripped out from under you while most of the people you know continue on with their lives!
i love roxana's posts and this one almost made me cry!
i love roxana's posts and this one almost made me cry!
That's some depressing shit
"It just plain sucks to go to a great law school, get a job at a "great" firm, and have it ripped out from under you while most of the people you know continue on with their lives! "
It also sucks when you go to a great law school, don't get a job, and have to watch self-entitled poseurs whine. You have no empathy for anyone besides your own "class," and you disgust me.
I got laid off after Enron died and didn't get a job for months. This is exactly what it felt like.
Agree with 56
awful. most boring crap ever written
I made it to the other side of the fast flowing river of post law practice depression. This current installment is dead-on, except that after sitting on my butt trolling for jobs via internet websites for weeks, I could barely get into my interview suits. I decided to take a job that uses my education/talents/experience outside of the practice of law until the time that the legal industry settles down. I had a mortgage to pay and debt to repay.
Some of the comments are so insensitive to those going through this time. Must be trust fund babies or members of the fun-employed crowd.
I heart Roxana.
Actually, 77, I find you quite tedious, too. At least Roxana has got a writing gig. It's like David Sedaris - memoir with heavy doses of embellishment and fiction.
Nobody has pointed out that "Roxie" didn't need to compare herself to a MALE superhero, The Incredible Hulk. A good female lawyer would know that She-Hulk is an attorney.
Nobody has pointed out that "Roxie" didn't need to compare herself to a MALE superhero, The Incredible Hulk. A good female lawyer would know that She-Hulk is an attorney.
Yeah, but She-Hulk doesn't suffer from the same emaciated intellect or irrational fits of rage, so it doesn't quite fit the metaphor Roxie was looking for anyway.
This post is the single greatest post in the history of law blogs. No wait- in the history of all blogs, period. No wait- in the history of the written word. I am smarter and happier and healthier for having read it.
Roxana- you are a goddess amongst men, albeit an unemployed one. Thank you for writing.
Jesus- thank you for Roxana. You owed us after sticking us with that fat shithead, elie.
Hulk- grrrr!
You need an editor, Roxana. Big time. If you get someone to take a red pen and ruthlessly pare your posts down by 50% they might actually become pretty good because you are not a bad writer.
I loled at the Hulk stuff.
Really, really well written. Kind of amazing.
Agreed about the two missed opportunities though. I don't understand your thinking and I hope that was the "fictional" part.
Anyway, overall really excellent piece.
A shame it's only fiction.
these posts need more spice. you should pair up with sweet hot justice. there were at least two perfect cues for hot unemployment sex in this story.
21,
"With continued layoffs, salary freezes, and (most frightening of all) delayed start dates, it's clear that a real glut of associates currently exists in the market. Where will they go? When will they go? Why should I expect them to go when I have no inclination to go myself? All good questions. All without answers."
The answers are actually pretty plain. (Cue grim music.) That Paul Bearer dude offering neck massages knows what I am talking about.
60/61 - right on. 5/6 is an idiot.
Even if Roxie's stuff is fiction, I think it must be embellishment because it really rings true. I was unemployed for a year, with temp gigs here and there. And that depression she describes is spot on.
Great writing. Only stuff on ATL worth reading.
T.J. here. Yes, I hit it, but it wasn't great. She mostly just laid there and cried.
Maybe you should just hang up the law career and try writing for a living. I like your writing style -- very funny.
There was a young female lawyers at Winston & Strawn back about 12 years ago who became so bored with the work she was given to do that she put an ad in the local newspaper as an escort and made $300 per hour until she was arrested. Check out the Chicago Tribune article dated March 5, 1997 title "Attempted Cover-Up Might Hurt Attorney." Luckily, her father was a judge, so she's still practicing law.
There was a young female lawyers at Winston & Strawn back about 12 years ago who became so bored with the work she was given to do that she put an ad in the local newspaper as an escort and made $300 per hour until she was arrested. Check out the Chicago Tribune article dated March 5, 1997 titled "Attempted Cover-Up Might Hurt Attorney." Luckily, her father was a judge, so she's still practicing law.
There was a young female lawyers at Winston & Strawn back about 12 years ago who became so bored with the work she was given to do that she put an ad in the local newspaper as an escort and made $300 per hour until she was arrested. Check out the Chicago Tribune article dated March 5, 1997 titled "Attempted Cover-Up Might Hurt Attorney." Luckily, her father was a judge, so she's still practicing law.
Why anyone posted after comment 10's brilliance is beyond me.
1. If this chick is a "talented writer who should get a book deal," then I'm Bill Shakespeare.
2. She sounds like a goddamn whiner who is never happy. She's depressed about being unemployed, life sucks. Then she gets job interviews but finds something to complain about the second she walks in the door.
She should have taken the old guy's umbrella and then hooked up with him after returning it. That would've been a pretty good story.
Sorry roxana, or bob, or whoever you are. (That's why TJ didn't hit it., He's gay and R. is not) Your writing needs a LOT of work. You have a kernel of a story, and a framework, but no drama.
You go to an interview, you are disinterested, you go home. You sob, Repeat.
Read some shakespeare or something. How about tragedy, disaster, redemption, hope, ANYTHING. Only unrelenting despair. If I want that, I'll read the inferno.
Take the same story. Have admiralty guy be a lonely widower, who culled your resume just so he had someone to talk to. Have him seem hopeful of hiring you, and then admit that he can't because his best client left with his former associate. Hope followed by despair.
Umbrella guy, is very nice, you take the umbrella. call him up and he invites you to join him for lunch. You get all dolled up hoping for a job or sex, or both. He puts his hand on your leg and offers $500 for the afternoon. You look like his daughter. end with cliffhanger: will you take the cash??
[you do take the cash, because you are depressed and just want to feel something. When he leaves you a $20 tip, and you stay in the room, NOW there is despair.]
Life's a bitch, and then you die. Is this all there is? Damn straight.
Assuming there is a downhill rock, then given the number of layoffs, deferrals, cancellations and eliminations of incoming classes, the offshoring of basic legal work, and even the scarcity of temp work, it might be a long way off.
There is, Roxana, a chance that the downhill rock never does appear in your individual journey. In cases where industries undergo structural change, some people are forced out forever. Sometimes that process is slow and agonizing (the car industry).
Maybe this time it's happening much faster. Some of those being forced out of law might, indeed will, never get back in, although it might take them a few years to recognize and accept that reality. It happened to lots of tech people in the dotcom crash. It's happening now to people in newspapers. It can happen in law.
Meantime, irreplaceable days of your life are passing as you do and earn nothing, mostly go nowhere and sink further into depression. You can't even strike up a conversation with strangers, in NYC. What a waste of even a tiny part of your youth.
Get OUT of NYC. Far from being the best place to wait while you look for a job, it's sucking the life out of you financially and psychologically, to the point where you are too demoralized to pursue any possible leads or contacts. You sit there and look at those who still have Biglaw jobs and feel even worse.
NY will be there in the future. If a job there comes up for you, you can always move back. But that could be a year or more from now. Are you going to throw away so much of your life like this?
Find your cats a place to stay. Get rid of most of your stuff and put a tiny fraction of it with friends or family. Ditch the apartment Buy a cheap ticket to SE Asia, where you can still live incredibly cheaply, and spend six months on the beach. Teach English in Russia. Work as a volunteer on an organic farm.
http://www.transitionsabroad.com/
http://www.ciee.org/representatives/detail.asp?country=US
http://www.wwoof.org/
Do something, anything. Even a minimum-wage job means you have to keep regular hours and get out of the house every day. Volunteer work is the same. No, minimum-wage jobs and volunteer work don't offer an income comparable to law jobs. But you don't have a law job, and the number of interviews you are getting, are not going to interfere with doing something else.
I'm not a legal recruiter or hiring partner. But it strikes me that if I were either of those, I'd be more interested in an applicant who had done "something" with their enforced time off, even if it had nothing to do with the law (teaching English in Chile or to illiterate adults in the US, picking fruit in Australia), than someone who had spent that time moping about not having a job while their life fell apart. That's at least something to talk to an interviewer about, rather than "I went to the bank half-dressed."
People who find something useful or interesting to do with their time at least show initiative, curiousity about the world and the spirit to try something different and new. Right now, you're just one more unemployed associate with a blog. Move on.
105: Yes, totally agree. She needs to get off her butt and just do something, anything. Good thinking outside the box on the organic farm tip. I was thinking maybe she could write a weekly column for a widely read industry blog while she's looking for a job.
#60:
I didn't post 5/6 here at ATL. I posted it on NYT's White & Case story, and some unknown people choose to re-post it here several times for reasons unknown to me.
As for your criticism, well, sure there are people who expected everything will be done for them for free, we are very quick at disabuse them of that notion.
However, many of them are willing to pay "some" money, but may not be able to pay a high 4 digit retainer payment upfront.
California law allows for "independent paralegals"/"Legal Document Assistant." I had sent many people to
http://www.calda.org
Quite a few of them seems to had been happy to pay UPTO $4-500 dollars flat rate for some document preparation by those "Legal Document Assistants."
http://calbar.ca.gov/calbar/pdfs/certification/self-study/mcle26.pdf
California have pretty good rules on "A la carte"/"Unbundled legal service." And there are lots of unmet needs.
http://www.bankruptcyforeclosureblog.com/2007/11/chapter-7-bankruptcy-still-aff.html
Attorney Stephen R. Elias*, Nolo Press author, have an innovative business model:
"A bankruptcy petition preparer (a non-lawyer) can prepare your petition for you for about $150. It's true that non-lawyers can't provide legal advice--or alert you to a problem with your petition --but there's nothing to stop bankruptcy lawyers from giving the public a break and providing the necessary legal information while letting the non-lawyers fill in the forms. For example, people doing their own bankruptcies can get all the legal help they need from me for a flat rate of $100. In this manner, self-represented filers can proceed in an informed manner with the help of an attorney and a forms expert (bankruptcy petition preparer)--and pay less than 25% of what they would pay an attorney for full representation."
When I last saw him, March of this year, he was doing very well with this business model.
* I am not the California county law librarian he is married to.
106,
Thank you.
Move out of New York! I got laid-off of a Big Law firm in January and am now excited to enjoy my oceanfront condo with twice the space of my old walk-up apartment in Manhattan. Although I will dearly miss NYC, I can always visit and move back when the market is better... Plus, the job market really is better elsewhere; you're not competing with as many grads of top 14 law schools if you move to San Fran, New Orleans, Houston, Atlanta, Miami, etc. That said, why settle practicing at some crappy firm in White Plains or Manhattan when you can enjoy winters in 70 degree weather and not pay city or state income tax?
Having been laid off in the past, this story, however made up it is, gives the EXACT impression of what it feels like to be unemployed as a lawyer. The hopelessness of not getting dressed when you go out. Sitting in dingy offices taking interviews from people you never expected to even have to shake hands with. It's soul-killing. Roxana got it right. Kudos. Although I'm pretty sure it's just Kash using a psuedonym.
Having been laid off in the past, this story, however made up it is, gives the EXACT impression of what it feels like to be unemployed as a lawyer. The hopelessness of not getting dressed when you go out. Sitting in dingy offices taking interviews from people you never expected to even have to shake hands with. It's soul-killing. Roxana got it right. Kudos. Although I'm pretty sure it's just Kash using a psuedonym.
Roxanna should have made clear to the cadaverous solo guy that in order to even consider the job,
(1) the law office would have move from its dumpy building to Class A space or fancy Park Avenue digs;
(2) cadaver-guy would have to transform himself into a George Clooney lookalike; and
(3) he would have to immediately acquire a roster of Fortune 50 firms as clients with exciting cases for Roxanna to work on.
ROXANNA NO SETTLE FOR CRAP.
You're a wonderful writer, and I've started to look forward to your articles. Keep it up.
Roxanna, you perfectly illustrate the chief problems with the Obama generation: a sickening sense of entitlement.
You think that because you have a J.D. and some friends who tell you that you're smart, white-shoe law firms in your favorite city should be lining up to pay you 6-figure salaries. You believe that your only obligation in this process is to post a few resumes, make a few phone calls, and show up on time to your interviews. Oh sure, you will "slum-it" as a document review temp for a few days, but not without ridiculing all of those people who review documents for a career. You are better than them, after all! A turn of events completely beyond your control landed you in "document review hell." You are not like the others, you don't belong there. It was nothing you did, and someday you will be back where you belong, in a corner office at some Vault 100 firm barking orders at a helpless associate. Yup, you are nothing at all like those temp folks - they have troll dolls and eat funny foods!!!
If you really want a job, cut the bullshit and stop thinking that someone owes you a living. The job market is tough, but big firms in NYC are hiring - they just aren't hiring YOU. Why? Because your credentials just don't stack up against the other layed-off attorneys in NYC.
So you have two choices: go solo and prove that you really do have talent that all those meanies at Biglaw just failed to see, or move to a less competitive job market and get a job with a -gasp- non-Vault 100 firm.
If you aren't willing to take the risk of going solo, or make the sacrifice of leaving NYC, then you ought to at least shut up and spare us this constant reminder of everything that's wrong with your generation.
This blows. Really.. it does.
114,
No solo is going to be in competition with Biglaw firms for work except, maybe, intellectual property work in a particularly specialized niche or some other field of specialized law practiced by only a few uniquely credentialed people (e.g., PhD in associated discipline as well as the JD).
Say what you will about quality--and I agree there are some solos better than biglaw guys--but Biglaw clients need (1) the CYA insulation of having hired "the best" firm to do something for their company and (2) the ability to get bodies to do something fast. Biglaw firms provide those things. Solos cannot.
109, where did you move that you can afford beachfront on unemployment?
And, for the record, San Francisco is really, really tight right now. I wouldn't be advising people to move from NYC to SF if what they want is a job.
I totally burst the bubble of some poor freshman volunteering for the ACLU collecting signatures in the UWS of NYC in support of gay marriage. He was so set on going to law school. I couldn't help it. The bubble had my name all over it. I think he looked like he wanted to cry. I felt bad but knew that it was for the best.