Calling Doctor Bombay

Anyone who has potty trained a toddler (or who has been around RJ for 45 minutes) knows the difference between a sense of urgency and a state of emergency. There's a sense of urgency when things need to get done; when we have somewhere to be; or when there's an impending deadline. There's a state of emergency when the thing that needed to be done unexpectedly wasn't; when we should have been somewhere yesterday, last week, or last year; and when the deadline is upon us.  The state of emergency arises from the unexpected and often from the unknown. A sense of urgency can become an emergency when it's not addressed; the mess is made; and the clean-up crew has been called in.

For years, I thrived in a general state of emergency. Cases didn't get to my floor unless there was a mess to clean-up, or an unexpected deadline of today. I typed fast; I read faster; I skimmed e-mails and deleted the ones related to office business, pro bono service, and fun. I put off going to the bathroom until there was a state of emergency on occasion.  (No really, a friend and I had a running joke about leaving the building for lunch needing a bathroom break and waiting until the last minute when we got back to work.) On more than one occasion, I twitched my nose and whispered, "Calling Doctor Bombay, emergency, emergency, come right away!" It didn't work out for me, but that didn't stop me from trying again at least one or ten more times.

It wasn't healthy. A state of emergency should be a temporary state--a crunch, a real pickle, a bind. Long-term states of emergency are hazardous to my health, or so I'm learning.

I'm about two months out of private practice and a million miles away from it. I sleep well now. Gone are the exam dreams and the night panics about fantasy documents.  I have energy to play Frisbee out back every night. My skin is clearer, and my eyes are brighter.

I miss some things about private practice. I miss my ladies. We had lunch this week, and it hit me how much I miss the camaraderie among young lady lawyers. We were our own support group.  I was used to soup, salad, gossip, and war stories at lunch.  Now? Lunch is more frequently soup and articles about pro bono bankruptcy clinics (which I'm secretly and not so secretly super excited about).  I miss the free pop and tea that went with private practice, and once the Thunder season hits, I bet I'll miss the occasional trip to the suite too. Private practice has its perks.

My days now have a sense of urgency. Urgency in that I'm beginning to understand exactly how many people float through the legal system every day with no assistance and no way to get any assistance. Urgency in that I can see first hand the concerns facing our students as they're sent into a tough job market. There is a sense of urgency that makes me want to read articles about pro bono bankruptcy clinics and watch TED talks on interview tactics while I put on my make-up in the morning.

I know I'll have my states of emergency. I'll lose sleep and energy. But the states of emergency will have an end. At that end? A sense of satisfaction that I haven't felt in a long time and the knowledge that I've helped a real live person, be it a client or a student.

I haven't twitched my nose yet, but I'm not afraid to try it again. Because, this job is a whole new world--and it seems as though all kinds of magical things may happen.