I could keep driving

A friend and former Judge sent me a picture from Paris of her dog sitting on a lounge chair (that costs more than my couch). Her dog's hair is incidentally better coiffed than mine.

"Come with me next time!" was the accompanying text.

On my way home I thought, I could keep driving.

I started working for the firm 5 years ago. The economy was in the gutter and lawyers were hard pressed to find a job with a firm unless they had been in practice for 20 years, or just out of the gate. Those in the middle were finding jobs at Starbucks. My COBRA insurance was running out. I was to be the first female lawyer at the firm. Goodbye glass ceilings and antiquated beliefs! (Golf clap)

The hours were to be 8 am to 6 pm, and I was expected to be present for all of them. Which is fine when you are in need, but troublesome when you have outgrown your place. You feel like a grown-up squeezing into a kindergartner's chair. It got to the point where the firm was hiding it from me when referrals came in trying to hire me, lest I learn my value. I would see names on the schedule and ask why they were coming in. I was bullied back into my office and into silence. Newspeak told me it wasn't ME the person wanted, but the firm.

You get to a place where despite a mortgage, bills and obligations, you don't really care. You feel like Milton.  Or in my case, Peter Gibbons.  It becomes a festering need to just find a way out. Stripping is an option. Bah, doctorates are unnecessary!

And so the plague sets in and the only real questions become when will you get out, and how? SO on 2/11/14 after the worst day in my practice, I set an exit date after an intervention by a dear friend. I will start my own practice on 9/16/14.

In the meantime, I wrestle with thinking that I could keep driving. I could sell my house, belongings and travel Europe again. I could just go.