Senior Partners Remember Young Associate Works For Them

Shit! Here I thought I was going to be able to continue hiding in my office reviewing documents forever. In fact, I came to realize that I didn't want to do anything else. I decided I simply didn't want to do anything hard. Possibly ever again. (A therapist might say, pityingly, that this was merely an attempt to empower myself.) But then work starting coming. And coming. Suddenly I am facing a bunch of deadlines and am reporting to seven different people. I miss the old days.

It occurs to me that the definition of "mid-week" changes the longer you practice law. Right now, for example, I like to define mid-week as "sometime Thursday." But I seem to be working for an attorney who defines mid-week as "Tuesday morning." I respectfully dissent, since I know for a fact that she regularly works Saturdays, which, I think, should allow me in good faith to turn in that project on Friday morning.

To complicate matters, I apparently volunteered to host a sock puppet show at some point during a debaucherous evening a few weeks back. This of course is a story line we've seen before, with slight variations, involving me and that wondrous punch at the Red Dragon. When I got into my car the following morning, I faced one of those sobering situations where the CD player blared out of the speakers as soon as I turned the key; glancing at the passenger seat I found a black headband of unknown origin. I slowly began to remember tromping through The Wedge the night before with a couple of girlfriends, wearing these ridiculous headbands, making plans to return in one week to see how many hipsters had picked up on the trend. Pleased to have solved the headband mystery, I declined to unravel the rest of the night: the karaoke, the random acts of craftiness, the offer to host a sock puppet show one month hence. I sighed, put the headband away, turned the radio down, and drove to work. I was reminded of my obligations when an invitation was mailed in mid-April, inviting a crew of crafty puppeteers to the show.

But no fear! I have put quite a bit of thought into the sock puppet show. After considering several worthy candidates, from Chekhov to Twain (and including one of my own authorship, ultimately jettisoned and rightly so), I have decided--I think--on an ancient Greek tragedy.