In the chaos, I find peace

It is almost the end of the month. In real estate world, this means people (particularly mortgage brokers and real estate agents) want to close on their properties. This, while very annoying, is logical. After all, many brokers and agents work almost exclusively on comission. Many get bonuses for closing "X" number of properties in a given month. So we, the lawyers, get pushed to close. But June is a bonus month of fun. The end of June is the end of the second financial quarter for most businesses, particularly banks. And it is summertime, the time many people are looking to buy and sell property (kids are out of school, the weather is nicer for moving, houses look better when not covered in 2 feet of snow and slush, etc.) Thus for the past week or so, everyone and their brother has been trying to get scheduled to close their properties.

What does this mean for me? Chaos. My phone rings from 8:30 in the morning (before our office even opens) till 5 at night (when we turn on the voicemail.) Constantly. I am trying to figure out how to make my speaker phone work better, because my shoulder is getting sore from holding the phone up while trying to type. In fact, I've had so many phone calls, I have given up on my regular "work week plans" that include, for an average 8 hour day, about 4 hours of planned work, and 4 hours of "flex" time (read: time I spend on the phone with clients.) My plans now read: 0 hours of planned work, and 10 hours of flex time, and 4-6 hours of "planned work" to be done after 6 pm so I can actually type something without the phone ringing (it still rings, mind you, but I just ignore it after 6, and pretend I have left the office so I can get out at some sembilence of a decent hour.)

Here is the scary thing, and this should honestly come as no surprise to most of you: this was an awesome week. Last week wasn't all that bad either. I am exhausted. I got home at 10:45 last night, and fell asleep as soon as I got off the phone at 11. I worked late every day this week (I left my office at 7:30 on thursday and was thrilled that I got out "early") I put in about 9 hours last weekend, and I'll easily put in 10-12 this weekend.

I love it.

Why?

Simple. This is law. The law I wanted to do. I go in, I do my job. I schedule my work, I talk to clients, I work with agents and other lawyers. I did research. I had my staff working on different projects. I was a LAWYER. Not a pseudo paralegal, getting stupid assignments that have nothing to do with my job. I DID something. Every day. I closed up 9 deals in the past week and change. I'm closing another 11 next week. I've got 6 lawyers across NY state doing work for me. I've got companies in 5 states that I am working with. I negotiated 2 transactions worth more then a million a piece in residential real estate.

I was alive in a lawyer sense. And it was awesome. I needed this. I craved this. I don't care that no one will understand or even appreciate what I did. My competitive self has been prodded out of his lazy stupor and is running rampant. Hell, I am reading the entire foreclosure section of the RPAPL and I am excited about doing it.

I am losing my freaking mind. Totally. At least it is going down happy. :-)

The more things change...

The only thought I keep having is, "huh, it is nice to see some things don't change." No, they are putting up all kinds of buildings on my alma mater. The field that we used to watch the soccer team practice on has been sucked up by a giant dorm. The Ag quad is being closed off by a new science building (possibly two.) The engineering quad looks sooooooo much better with it's new building in place. And I am not a student any more. 5 years later, I am back, chilling in a dorm room, getting ready to go out. Of course, I am way over 21 now, and I definitly require more sleep then I used to.

But some things really don't change. My friends are still my friends. My sisters are still my sisters. We've gotten older, maybe wiser. Some of use are married, some of us are single. Cornell still holds a spot dear in my heart. Which is why, as it continues to be about 50 degrees and refuses to stop raining, all I can think is "huh, it's nice to see things don't change." I could get mad, but Cornell all freakishly cheery and dry would in some way not be the Cornell I grew to love. Don't get me wrong, I would love some sun to dry up everything so I could climb into the gorge and lay out on a rock. But this Cornell is my Cornell. And I could not be happier to be here.