Weekend report

Friday was interesting at work. The partner in the group, who had been gone for most of the time I've been around, came back on Friday. He called a last-minute lunch meeting, causing at least three people to change their plans, and then was 30 minutes late to it himself, which was kind of annoying. The group started playing Pictionary with the posterboard in the conference room while we were waiting. It was funny.

After eating the catered food, we did a quick review of who was working on what. It's slow these days, as I mentioned before. I don't think there's much of a chance of the firm letting people go, but who knows? It's been known to happen during recessions, and there's been a lot of talk about recessions lately.

After the meeting, the partner came back with comments on an agreement, and said, "I'd like for you to put these edits in, send it out, negotiate with this guy, and finish the deal."

I almost said, "You're kidding, right?" but caught myself and asked, "Uh... how do I do that?"

He went through the edits and explained them. I asked a question or two. He left. I looked at my officemate and said, "I just can't believe I'm expected to negotiate and finish the deal!"

"That's the Firm way," she said.

Which is kind of cool, in that it's challenging and not document monkey work, but kind of terrifying. What the hell do I know about transactions and bargaining? This isn't about taking out a comma and putting a semicolon instead. It's, like, really dealing with the parties on the deal. There's no reason why I should know how to this. It's not common sense stuff.

On the other hand, the partner explained it all out and it makes sense to me. So I wrote up notes to myself, put in the edits, and... sent it to a senior associate for review, mostly because the partner forgot something and said, "Oh, just put something in there about that. And add in a time limit." Hi, I don't know nuthin' about nuthin'. Have some mercy here.

Whatev. The senior associate observes Saturday sabbath, so he couldn't review it that day, which meant I left at 6 and went for a long run in the gym. (Too long. Ow.)

The Ringleted One and the Bacon came into the city for the weekend, so I had my first overnight human and canine guests. As usual, The Ringleted One showed me many fine sights, including, in the Village: a great Thai restaurant, the most perfect bookstore, a hilarious logo of the NYC bomb squad, and Rice to Riches, a kooky, irreverent place that sells only rice pudding. We also discovered, in the course of our wanderings around my neighborhood, a wonderful and hidden dog park and a totally rando footbridge over the east side highway and right down to the East River that had a marvelous view of the old smallpox hospital on Roosevelt Island, a spooky-looking castle-type building that is majestically lit up and falling apart. I must admit, New York has its moments.

Mrs. Esq. asked me a good question last week: what happens after the 730 days? Damn good question. The answer? I don't know. But something. Not just the same stuff. Something. BC said tonight that these two years would be useful and good for me in more than just a paying-off-the-loans type of goodness. Unpacking my crap, wandering around the city, reconnecting with my adultness -- I feel like I'm airing out long-forgotten clothing that are a little out of style, but are still beautiful. They might have to be altered here and there to fit the current me, but I'm looking forward to wearing them again.
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