Quitting my job, finding myself
Sometimes you have to relinquish other people’s dreams in order to make your own come true.
Self
It was Christmas day, and instead of celebrating I was camped out in the basement of a prestigious law firm in New York City, surrounded by boxes of documents. I’d been poring over them for weeks, pulling any page related to a company I’ll call QRS. It had merged with our billion-dollar corporate client a decade ago and was now a factor in our lawsuit. I’d finally finished, marking all 100 boxes with a check to certify that they’d been searched. I inched my way between two tall stacks and rode the elevator 34 floors to my office. Then I e-mailed my boss a 70-page chronology of the more than 2,000 documents I’d found. Before I could gather my coat and head home, the telephone rang.
“Good job,” the partner said. “There are another 100 boxes on a company called OMS. Start those on Monday.”
“First QRS and now OMS?” I asked. It felt to me like PMS.
The partner chuckled, a sadist in a three-button suit.
So I did what I always do in a crisis: I called my father, a meatpacker and the most down-to-earth person I know…read more here.
Pari Berk 