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a few weeks ago, my rock star assistant moved with her husband to Hawaii. He is in the Army and got transferred there for two years. She found out in mid-November and broke the news to me. I was immediately sad, and then jealous. Apparently her husband gave her the option of not going with him, as it is a two year assignment and besides Hawaii, the options were South Korea and Alaska. As soon as she heard “Hawaii,” she, of course, readily accepted. Unfortunately, she still had about a month and a half left at the firm and she had a tremendous case of I-could-care-less-about-this-job-since-I-am-moving-to-paradise-itis. It was unfortunate for myself and the three partners she supported. Still, I have fond memories of her as she was willing to drive me home from happy hours when I had a little too much to drink, which is always appreciated.
We have been interviewing replacements for over a month. Unfortunately, you are dealing with super nice associate (ahem…that would be me) and three very particular, and very demanding, and VERY opinionated men. This one did not have enough litigation experience, this one lived too far away, this one refused to stay late…and then this afternoon, we meet a very nice, and VERY upbeat, woman who I thought was just perfect. Her kids are teenagers so her schedule is flexible, her commute won’t be great, but she’s well aware of that fact, and she wore cute shoes. I was sold! Of course, during the post-interview discussion, one of the partners whined that she did not seem to be intimidated by working for four attorneys. Keep in mind, another partner had just finished criticizing today’s first candidate because she seemed nervous about working for four attorneys. I looked back and forth at them in disbelief. So we want someone who is scared to come work for us? Okay, fellas, that makes sense.
I made my pitch for candidate #2 and cast my vote. I think my vote only matters if it is same vote as the other three, but still – it is nice to be given a voice, especially when it turns out yours is the voice of reason.
One sidenote – when she met the three of us (one partner was out today), she called me by my first name and the two male partners “Mr. X” and “Mr. Y.” I hope that doesn’t mean she is going to be one of those assistants who focuses on supporting the partners and considers helping associates an afterthought. Because, I must say, sometimes I look around and think “Am I the only one working around here?” Okay, FINE, today was NOT one of those days. Today was more like “I am going to take a long lunch and clean out my inbox” type day.
so I arrived at the Three City Plan over the holidays after looking around at my life and deciding I was not content. I needed to take charge of my discontent and figure out some way to be happy. One of the main reasons I’ve been unhappy lately is my terrible, awful, no-good job. And I feel like I am in a rut socially and so I thought a change was in order, a BIG change. Hence, the decision to move. But since I am going to Africa for about two weeks in July, and the Big Event will likely take place in August, it makes some sense to wait until the fall to relocate. Plus, moving in the dead of the winter? Yikes.
The problem with having a plan that is really only the rough outline of a plan that will be executed in approximately nine months, is that I have waaaaaaaaaay too much time to think about the Three City Plan (or TCP, for ease of reference). While in Nashville this weekend, we drove around and looked at all the different neighborhoods and I would close my eyes and try to see myself walking to get java, drinking a beer somewhere, or going for a run. And I just made plans to go up and visit my parents, who live outside New York City (also a contender in the TCP). They are going to check out the real estate section of the New York Times this weekend and then we will take a day trip into New York and wander around so I can again close my eyes and try to see myself walking to get java, drinking a beer somewhere, or going for a run.
But I worry that I am overthinking this process. S had an interview on Thursday, accepted the job on Friday, and gave his notice on Monday. He moved about three weeks later. And he wanted to leave earlier, but some logistical difficulties at his new place caused a delay. When we had coffee before he left, he was facing a week in his house without having to work. Usually a glass-half-full-kind-of-girl, I tried to say how nice it would be to take his time packing and saying goodbye to his home of ten-plus years. He shrugged his shoulders and commented that maybe having a lot of time to think about the big change he was making wasn’t such a good thing.
And that’s what I am wondering for myself. Having decided to do something nine months ahead of time is giving me over nine months to obsess about my options. I wonder if having three possible cities out there is too much – maybe I should just pick one, rather than spend hours on the Internet thinking about my options. If I go to NYC, should live in Manhattan? Or maybe Brooklyn? Should I rent or maybe buy? What kind of jobs should I apply for? Do I want to keep lawyering? Am I qualified to do anything else? Those last few questions apply to each of the three cities, but I am now worrying maybe sitting around, thinking about my options, weighing my choices, and generally overthinking this whole move, is not a very good plan. I think it might make sense to shelve this decision for awhile as it may drive me absolutely batty.
but right now, I am also a terrible lawyer so I thought maybe some blogging was a better way to spend my time on the couch this evening.
I have a few administrative things to catch up on before I launch into a more substantive post. First, my sister’s Big Event has been postponed due to some technical issues with the Catholic Church – in that, the annulment of my future brother-in-law’s first marriage has not technically come through so the May date is a no-go. It looks like the Big Event is likely to be rescheduled for the end of August and the nuptials will take place outside at the reception site, rather than in the church my sister and I grew up attending. While this may all sound very matter-of-fact, it has been nothing but and it has been a very rough time for my sister. Also for my mom, who repeatedly comments to me that this “whole situation has been very difficult” on her. While selfishly I appreciate the extra few months to find a date, as it is the end of January and I am no closer to wrapping up Mission Find Wedding Date than I was when I started this blog back in July.
In other news, S has moved. About 400 miles up North. I wish I could explain in words exactly how I feel about that move, but I am still working through it. And all of the typical boy crap that happened before he left. More to come, I am sure.
My final administrative announcement is the recent decision that I have made to relocate. I am calling it the Three City Plan, as there are three cities in contention as a landing spot. Each city has tremendous pluses and minuses and I am spending the next eight months working through them as I will most likely move around September. Definitely more to come on that.
And actually, I just returned from a week in one of the Three Cities. I was there for work and decided to spend a few extra days hanging around with my Best Friend who lives there. Turns out, her husband was tied up with lawyering and she could use an extra set of hands to help wrangle her toddler. At six months pregnant, she certainly has her hands, plate, and all other possible things full. Best Friend and I are two very different people – different backgrounds (me Northern, she Southern), I was the first Irish Catholic she had ever met and she took me to my first Presbyterian service, she is blond and petite and always looks put together, I am a lanky brunette, all limbs, and often too lazy to bother with the too-expensive make-up I buy. Despite these differences, we have managed to stay pretty close since our first meeting junior year in college. We have not lived in the same place in almost eight years and sometimes the geographical distance feels huge. And now, after spending four days together, living her life, I sometimes got overwhelmed by how different our lives had become. She has an adorable (and super smart) two year old named William and another baby boy (name to-be-determined, but we ruled out a bunch in hysterics on Sunday night) on the way. She lawyers part time, eats mainly organic, and subsists on very little sleep. Instead of her drunken cries of “get in my belly!” and “let’s eat pizza,” I heard “No SIR” when reprimanding her son. It works like a charm – what a momma’s boy. She is truly an amazing mother.
I laid awake most nights I was there, wondering if I would ever have the life she had – full of family, complete with a dog named after our alma mater. It is not the bad type of envy that I feel, it is not the kind that makes us think ugly thoughts. As someone I care about deeply, I do want for her every happiness that she deserves. And she is happy in her life, tired but happy. It is far from perfect and I am under no illusions about her life coming with trials and tribulations, just as mine does. They are just different, that’s all.
My heart absolutely melted whenever William would stand at Best Friend’s feet, arms outstretched, saying “Mommy hold me Mommy hold me.” He looked up at her with eyes so full of need and adoration and outright love. And so I am left wondering if those eyes of love and need are in my future.
