Meanwhile, I’m sitting here eating a protein bar that I found in my bag from last week and chugging the dregs of a stale office coffee because I didn’t have time to stop on my way in. I’ve got two monitors going—one with a doc that needs to be turned by tonight (because heaven forbid the client’s deal doesn’t close before year-end) and the other with emails from partners that start with “Not urgent, but…” on Christmas freakin’ Day.

And the worst part? This is normal. This is expected. The partner on the deal probably thinks working Christmas makes me “hungry” or “dedicated” or some other corporate buzzword that really just means “willing to sacrifice their soul for the billables.”

But here’s what gets me: those people outside? They’re happy. Like, actually happy. I can see it from up here. They’re not thinking about indemnity clauses or whether the reps and warranties need to survive 12 or 18 months. They’re not refreshing Outlook to make sure they didn’t miss an email at 11 PM from some VP who “just had a quick thought.” They’re just existing, while I’m over here trying to figure out how to rephrase a sentence so that some tax partner won’t have an aneurysm when they review it tomorrow.

And yeah, I know. “You’re a biglaw lawyer, this is what you signed up for.” Sure. But nobody tells you when you’re sitting in that fancy law school classroom that you’ll end up eating vending machine pretzels for dinner on Christmas because you couldn’t make it home in time. Or that you’ll be watching strangers live their lives through a pane of glass while you tweak a subclause about post-closing adjustments for the 900th time.

Anyway, time to get back to it. Kid with the sled just wiped out on the sidewalk, and his parents laughed and picked him up like it was the cutest thing they’d ever seen.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5639182&forum_id=2#48373600)