One of the cases I worked on at one of my prior jobs is finally going to trial. Years of discovery and research and depositions and settlement starts and stops and motions back and forth and Judge reassignments - my life for a long time - are finally coming to a head.
And I'm not there.
Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm pining to be there. The trial is in another state, and is going to last weeks. The preparation is brutal. The nights are brutal. Life, outside of the trial itself, screeches to a halt. You live and breathe transcripts and documents and witness prep sessions.
How could I have done that? Left my children and put my life on hold for months in preparation, and weeks in court? I couldn't have.
But I'd be lying if I said that there wasn't a small part of me wanting to be there.
Wanting the rush of going to a courtroom and watching testimony and slipping notes to the first chair attorney with questions they should ask on cross.
Wanting the satisfaction of those "look what I got that witness to say" moments.
Wanting the camaraderie that comes with being on a trial team.
Wanting the pride of finishing something I started.
Wanting to feel like a real lawyer.
Biglaw was crazy and tedious and stressful. But there were moments - rare moments - where I felt excited about what I was doing. Where I felt a rush of adrenaline that it was all worth it.
And this morning, I'm cognizant of the fact that I'm missing out on what would have been some of those moments for me.
So while I am thanking my lucky stars that I am avoiding the late nights and the stress and the craziness of it all, it still makes me a little sad.
It probably would have been kind of cool.