Ed. note: Welcome to the latest installment of "Notes from the Breadline," a column by a laid-off lawyer in New York. Prior columns are collected here. You can reach Roxana St. Thomas by email (at roxanastthomas@gmail.com), follow her on Twitter, or find her on Facebook.
It is spring, but the weather has turned cold again. My short-lived job is over; my short-lived relationship is over. One flat, grey day follows another. I am beginning to wonder whether my career is over, too.
A few days after Elisa cuts us loose, Olivia finally returns the phone call I made to ask her whether she had another assignment for me. "Roxanna, hiiii," she coos breathily. She sounds surprised to find me at home.
"I guess the project ended early," she says, her voice dripping with faux sympathy. "Soooorrry." I wonder if she has practiced using this tone to comfort children who have failed to make the spelling bee finals. Or puppies, I think, half-expecting her next words to be, "who's a good girl? You are! Yes, you are!" But she switches gears seamlessly, her voice brightening. "Well," she chirps, "it's probably nice to put your feet up after all that hard work, isn't it?"
"Yeah," I hear myself say flatly. "I worked like ... a dog."
"Then you definitely need a little break!" she effuses, sounding relieved. "Did you have a good experience, though? The people over at the Big Law firm are just great, aren't they?"
I hold the phone out from my ear, wondering whether the caller I.D. will identify Olivia's location as Bizarro World. In Bizarro World, "great" and "insufferable bitch" must be interchangeable terms. "It was really interesting," I tell her, trying to sound upbeat. "In fact, I don't even need a break. I'm ready to get right back on the horse!"
"Ohhh," she says, as though I have asked her to lend me money. She tells me that she may have another "potential" project coming up, and has some "really interesting and exciting possible opportunities" for contract work. There is silence while, I assume, she pretends to look for exciting possible opportunities on her computer. For all I know she is scrolling through Craigslist or Law.com. I have an urge to ask her whether my friend, the troll, has found an exciting possible opportunity. Finally, I tell her to take her time looking and call me if anything comes up.
I need to do some errands, but the task of showering and getting dressed suddenly seems insurmountable. But why bother with proper attire when you have a long down coat? I think, and put it on over the ratty t-shirt and sweatpants I'm wearing. I glance at my disheveled hair in the mirror and decide that God made hats for many reasons (only one of which is cold weather), and that he probably also made Crocs for the members of his flock who are too unmotivated to look for their shoes. My outfit complete, I strike out.
Follow my adventures, after the jump.