since free Wi-Fi. But it’s also not something I agonize over. In fact, I don’t think I’m alone in my lukewarm feelings about my job. Do you love your job?” I look at Jamie.
He shrugs. “We already established this here is not the dream career for me, but that’s why I’m trying to make changes.”
“Right,” I say, even though that feels like a slight against me because I’m doing fuck all about changing anything, really.
“The thing is,” I continue, “TV shows and movies have made being a lawyer much more interesting than it really is. I bet a lot of people in my field have, at one point or other, imagined themselves standing in the court room, giving a passionate speech, taking a stand and making a change.”
“You don’t even need to be a lawyer to do that,” Jamie says. “In fact, I may have yelled You’re out of order at my elderly neighbor, Magda, just last week. She had a heart attack shortly after. I’m about sixty percent certain it might have been my fault. You should never ever startle an eighty-year-old. Just saying.”
“Please tell me it’s not one of those stories that ends with and then she died.”
Jamie snorts. “Magda? Please. The woman is indestructible. She was back banging her broom against her ceiling slash my living room floor two days after. Said she escaped the hospital because the doctors were a bunch of know-it-alls, and she’ll drink her bloody coffee if she damn well wants to.”
“Good for Magda.”
“Sure. What’s me doing my best Dustin Hoffman impression to my octogenarian neighbor have to do with law, exactly?”
“Just… people end up disillusioned pretty quickly. Very few people end up smack-dab in the middle of a dramatic courtroom battle, and I imagine the same principle applies to a lot of other jobs, too.”
Most of my work is done outside of the courtroom, and it includes copious amounts of reading, writing, and paperwork. It can be, and often is, tedious, kind of boring and monotonous. Especially in corporate law, which is coincidentally my specialty, so good choice, past Grayson. I commend you for your tolerance of tedium.
I busy myself with stacking some papers so I wouldn’t have to see Jamie’s perceptive gaze.
“You’re still young,” I say, using my best grandfatherly tone. “All I’m saying is, don’t build your expectations too high when it comes to your career. Most jobs are a lot more boring in real life than they are in brochures they hand out during job fairs.”
Jamie frowns. “It sounds suspiciously like you hate your job” is his blunt assessment.
“No.” The denial is immediate.
I don’t... I don’t love my job. But I’m good at it. Do I enjoy corporate mergers and drafting documents day in and day out? Maybe not, but the job satisfaction is usually there in some form, at least.
“Oh really? What’s your favorite aspect of your job?” Jamie challenges.
“I—”
I draw a complete blank.
“Yes?” Jamie says.
“I like to help.” I sound so delightfully incompetent. If I were a photo, I’d be the generic male figure they stuff in photo frames they sell at the mall that people throw away as soon as they get home.
I don’t know what it says about me, but I actually am pretty good when it comes to dealing with routine and forcing myself to accomplish tasks I’m maybe not thoroughly passionate about. I’ve never been one of those people who has trouble concentrating. I’ve got a lot of practice when it comes to forcing myself to complete boring tasks. I’m not as smart as Kai, so in order to stay on top of my class, I had to make a real effort. Hours and hours of studying every day, sometimes well into the night. So no, I have no trouble forcing myself to apply myself.
Although, this last week I’ve only been dragging my feet, and I’ve gotten nothing done. Where I usually approach my days with the efficiency of a robot, ticking off items from my to-do list with ease and efficiency, after my talk with Con on Sunday, I just feel restless.
“Well, I guess corporations need help, too,” Jamie says diplomatically.
“Yes.” We stare at each other. Jamie looks almost as if he’s disappointed in me.
I’m not expecting to change the world with my work, but shouldn’t there be at least some sort of a feeling of accomplishment involved in the process?
Now that I think back on my career, have I ever felt like I was doing something worthwhile? I guess it’s nice