727 days to go: BFFs

In the morning of this, the third day of training, I had this blasphemous thought during a session on legal research sources: You know, I'd kind of like to start working. I want to see what it's like. And I'm sick of sitting and listening to people.

Soon enough, my pretty! And your little dog, too!

On an unrelated topic, when did the term BFF (Best Friends Forever) come back into vogue? My workplace BFF is shaping up to be Elo, an optimistic, down-to-earth, charmingly neurotic Jewish girl from Colorado. We worked in London together a few weeks and she was definitely my favorite summer associate there, so I was pleased to find her pleased that I was in New York.

I was sitting on Elo's table during a break, eating her grapes, when a member of custodial services came by to clear the plates. She didn't want any more grapes and neither did I, but she felt bad about wasting the food. The custodial staffer shrugged and said, "There's so much waste anyway." Elo agreed, "Yeah, I know, and I feel so bad about all the wasted food and paper..."

"And lives," I added.

It took her and her neighbor a moment, but they laughed. Her neighbor said with a raised eyebrow, "Feeling a little jaded today?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Elo said, laughing.

We got out early today (no painfully awkward dinners with associates or partners) and Elo invited me to meet her boyfriend, as we were walking in the same direction from the office. He's a nice Jewish lawyer who appears to be just as sweet as she is. After chatting with him for 10 minutes or so, he had to go back to work, and we continued on, spending half an hour on my street chatting about parents and dating.

It's nice to think that I will have a workplace BFF. I never really had one before.

And on another unrelated topic: what is wrong with my aunt and uncle? They are such children. Not to mention my mother, who is not exactly a child ... more like demon spawn, I think. Anyway. My aunt and uncle didn't come to my graduation because they didn't want to see my father. Now they have decided they can't deal with my mother and so have cut off contact with her too.

I lost my patience and called them tonight, and sounded off about them not coming to graduation, about them not calling me even when I send them things, about them cutting off contact with everyone, about them stewing about things in the past they can't change. I mean, my uncle says tonight, "Someday I'll tell you some things that I couldn't tell you before, that I wasn't allowed to say before, and you'll understand." God damn it man, don't fucking tell me a thing! I don't care! I don't want to hear it! How many goddamn secrets does this family have, and why the HELL do I need to hear them? And why the HELL do I need to be the one telling my aunt and uncle, who are in their sixties and seventies, that they can't cut everyone off, or else they'll be alone, and that will depress them more?

I certainly understand depression, and how it can cripple you, wrap you up so tight that you can't see anywhere to move, so that you lie there and stare at the ceiling and wish you could sleep for days at a time because you feel so empty, so hopeless when you're awake. I just wish I didn't have to be the one pushing my aunt and uncle out of their depression -- and it does sound like my uncle, at least, is feeling depressed.

I don't know, I have had friends be depressed, and never felt this kind of resentment and anger toward them. Why do I feel it toward my aunt and uncle? Because I see them as having failed in their roles as the adults? Because I don't want to be the adult? That's true enough. I don't want the responsibility.

God, I need to sleep.