Thursday, December 24, 2009

I have hit a new mark of growing up. I now have an assistant. This is beyond words weird -- I am sure a lot of that has to do with the "do it all yourself and never ask for help" mentality of my last job. But there is another layer to it that I didn't fully realize until the other night. I was at the holiday party of my new firm. The veritable all star game for boozing and schoomzing -- and I didn't feel like doing either. I had more in common and more to talk about with the assistants and the secretaries. Probably because I pay more attention to reality tv than I do the stock market. Oopsies. But I was expected to be out having chit chat with the partners. One guy in particular had a little too much to drink and basically verbalized everything I fear in my job "Megan, I am supposed to take your business advice seriously but you look 25 years old." Well, first off you are my new favorite because you think I am 25. Secondly, yeah I pretty much get that you would be wary of taking my business advice. I have no idea how I have ended up where I am. Don't get me wrong -- I am good at what I do -- but I didn't take some linear path to get here. I pretty much fell into my current line of work and I don't have ivy league degrees or a shiny MBA to stand on (but mad props to my Masters degree haha)

I had lunch with some college friends recently where we ended up discussing how old we feel, more or less. And while those gathered around that lunch table varied in life stages from new mother to pregnant to single and were on various accomplished career paths....we all still thought of ourselves mentally as about 25 years old. I agreed. I don't often feel older -- but I know that I am. I don't want to have to worry about cholesterol or getting enough calcium. I'd still rather get my news from the E! Channel and not CNN. Maybe I haven't had some of those life markers that might automatically make one "act older"....but I guess I need to catch up soon. Or at least pretend to act older. Sadly I have to go talk about billable hours and not Snookie getting punched on "Jersey Shore"

I'd prefer not to graduate to the big kids table just yet....but I think I don't have a choice.

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