It's official. I've accepted a job elsewhere, and it is not a law firm. In fact, it is in the art world. Let me tell you how good it feels to leave the legal world after ten years. It feels hot-chocolate-with-marshmallows, foot-rub-with-lotion, freshly-bathed-baby-neck good.
I took a job as a legal secretary to put myself through my Master's program in California. And then I moved to Arkansas, where the opportunity to use my degree was nonexistent. I fell back on law firms, and it chafed because I knew I was just as educated and intelligent as the people I supported. More often than you want to know if you've ever paid an attorney's fees, I was much smarter and more capable. I believed my time in the South was temporary, but then life happened, kids happened, and this town felt more and more like home. Bad news for the career I wanted, the chance I never had.
Then one day the mountain came to Mohammed. An amazing institution, destined to be world class, is under construction about 30 miles north of here. And I've just been hired to work there. Maybe you enjoy your job; I hope you do. Maybe it fulfills you and makes you proud to contribute to a greater good. I don't know what that's like, but I'm about to find out how it feels to make a living doing work that matters to me.
My last day at the firm is tomorrow, and I'm trying to act like I'll miss the place although, in truth, I will not. I hold no illusions that my new job will be anything but another reincarnation of Office Space. However, my new eight bosses will not be lawyers, and that is a significant improvement.