Briefly

The Ringleted One is visiting, and sweet raisins in the California sun, the weekend has been fun.

But it started out on this note: on Friday, at 11 am, I was expecting to lunch at Le Cirque with a group of summers and associates that I think I like, and was looking forward to getting to know. At 11:15, I got a call from partner in the credit department, and I knew I was sunk. As you might expect, I got an assignment, which had to be done by 2:30, which I didn't enjoy, wasn't sure I did right, and necessitated me bowing out of the anticipated lunch.

It wasn't Le Cirque I was disappointed about. I had really been looking forward to chatting with the people at lunch. And lord help those with outsize senses of disappointment, but -- I went to the bathroom and actually dropped a few tears. Fatigue, disappointment, annoyance, and helplessness washed over me.

When I went back to my desk, I wrote this to myself:

remember this moment. remember this moment of awful disappointment and terror and sadness. because there will be even more important events than a lunch with people whom you actually like in the future. there will be birthdays and weddings and anniversaries and holidays and visits by family or friends, and these too would have to stand aside at the beck and call of a senior associate or partner.
remember this moment of knowing that you're terrified of this assignment because you don't understand it, and more than that, you don't want to understand it, because it holds no interest for you. because there will be times when you get an assignment that bewilders you more than this, and which you'll want to do even less than this, and you'll be forced to do it, at the expense of that wedding or visit or birthday or holiday.
remember this moment, of knowing that your life is not your own, that your much-anticipated plans can be completely shut down, that the only reason you would ever consider doing this is money, for this job is not within the wildest stretches of your desires or interests or ambitions, it would only ever be a means to freedom from debt incurred from a stupid step to get a degree you neither want nor appreciate. because if you do this job, your life will not be your own, it will be forever servant to someone else's worries about money, someone else's desire to make money, someone else's whims.
remember this moment. is it worth it? you can live most of your life in relative luxury -- real luxury, compared to 99 percent of the world -- but you'll never be able to fully rest, knowing that you can be called in, called back, at any time.
is it worth it?

I don't know. Is it? Starting pay for a NY law firm associate is $140,000.

All the things I'd been saying to myself -- yes, the work is hard and boring at times, yes, the lifestyle sucks, yes, the rewards dubious -- suddenly crystalized at Friday midday to this one thought: "They own me." For $140,000, they would own me.

That was a good thing to realize.