Warning: lots of self-absorbed whining and self-pity ahead
I was about 12 or 13 when I decided I wanted to be a lawyer. Prior to that, I’d entertained thoughts of becoming an engineer. Firstly, it tended to surprise people – secondly Dad was, by training, an engineer, and in those days I was very much “Daddy’s Little Girl” and admittedly, I was more than a little proud that I was good at maths and science, as well as being able to write a decent paper (something I’ve found that most engineers can’t do). I’m not sure when that changed – certainly, I can’t really put a finger on it, and I certainly put down engineering in my list of university course choices, but somehow, somewhere, I managed to stumble into the law. And, currently, be wandering around on the periphery.
I was very, very fortunate to stumble into a great casual job when I got back from my most recent China trip – one where everyone was completely and utterly lovely, where I was learning a great deal, and getting skills that most lawyers don’t have, and being able to work on projects that made a real difference in the world, in a whole lot of really interesting ways. Most of all, they were understanding, supportive and encouraging in my quest to find a lawyerly job.
However, as the weeks turned into months, it was becoming more and more apparent in my legal industry job search that the situation was much grimmer than I originally thought. I suppose the little glimmer of optimism about being able to find something that wouldn’t result in either my stomach ulcer coming back or signing up for a nervous breakdown in six months’ time finally extinguished when my (very nice) recruiter warned me that the partner who would be my boss in a potential job was “difficult to get along with.” Recruiters are practically the only optimists in the legal industry.
My casual workplace has offered me a permanent job. I’ve taken it, and though I’m very grateful to them, and grateful to have any sort of work at all in this current economic climate, much less something I enjoy, but there’s still that nagging feeling that this is very much a detour from where I am meant to be.
It’s always interesting to ponder the path not taken. What if I had applied to study medicine, just to see whether I would get in? If I had, would I have studied it? And certainly an out-of-work doctor in this environment has slightly more noble options than an unemployed lawyer, such as volunteering for an NGO in some far flung corner in the world saving lives.
But more realistically, and considering the skills I do have, what I’m generally wondering now is what might have been if I had just done a generalist degree in something I liked, but not one with any obvious employability skills. Classics, say, or archeology. Or philosophy. I’d have put off practicality for the 3 years – or 4, if I did an Honours year – and then gone and found a job in office administration, or as a PA, and maybe done TAFE courses at night.
Would I have found a casual job at University that actually paid, knowing that my future earnings would be moderate at best, instead of volunteering at a Community Legal Centre “for the experience” and working only summers (and living off the largesse of my parents)? Would finishing full-time study earlier, and heading into the workforce earlier have meant I had more working experience, always highly valued - certainly an skilled, experienced legal secretary or Executive Assistant earns considerably more than a humble junior lawyer! The difference in the starting dates means that if I’d started as a legal secretary back then, I’d probably be counted as “experienced” by now.
But apart from the pay, which plateaus considerably earlier than the salaries of the really well paid lawyers (and corporates), would I be more satisified now?
Would I be happier, in a job where I would (generally) arrive at 9, and leave at 5, and when I leave the office, to leave it all behind me until the next work day, instead of compulsively checking emails at home, coming in on the weekend and worrying about work all the time (a habit which has carried over into my new job). Not that secretaries, and assistants don’t worry about their work – but what I’ve always envied is the very sensible and practical realisation that if it is outside of office hours, and is dependent on another party, whatever needs to happen won’t happen until it is office hours again, and isn’t worth stressing over again until it is. Something I do wish more lawyers would realise.
Or would I instead be frustrated, knowing that I would always be invisible, that I would never have the chance to have the limelight, that I would rarely get any public acknowledgement of my work. Would I be happy not to ever be “The Woman” but rather “The Woman The Woman (or Man) relies on”?
But then, even so, would I care? Would that be any different to being a junior or midranking lawyer who never makes it to the heights of being the ”Lead Partner” on the “Deal of the Year”, or one of the innumerable middle-management drones who never make it to the top, and yet are always the first go in any “company restructure”?
But would I then spend my weekends and evenings doing the things I never seem to have time to do? Would I finally schedule that CAE course that I’ve always been wary of enrolling in, for fear of not being able to make classes? Would I actually dare to make dinner or drinks appointments for weekdays, confident that I would not have to either have to rush out the office door or make shamefaced apologies to my companion at 5 minutes to 5? Would I be getting up early to go to the gym, and not to the office to get some more work done? Would my weekends then be more than simply catching up on the sleep I’ve missed during the week?
I seriously don’t know.
But life, of course, isn’t about the roads not taken, but the one that was. And though I’m wandering on a different path now, wondering if it’s a detour or a highway or just struggling my way through the bush, there really isn’t anywhere to go but forward.