My First 100 Days as a First-Year Associate

Day 1

Everyone at Bellwether Voss tells me to ask questions.

I ask the partner giving our induction how he would like questions sent to him. He says his door is always open. His assistant says he doesn’t use that office.

I write “ask questions” in my notebook. Beneath it I write “find partner”.

We get our photographs taken for the directory. I look like someone who has not yet discovered tracked changes.

Day 5

Moira, the assistant outside our group’s offices, explains where the documents are.

The folder called Current contains the last transaction. The current transaction is in New, beneath an old client name. The thing called Final is a PDF for reference. The working draft is called Final 6.

Moira also tells me which printer jams and which senior associate will actually explain an answer.

I have received three hours of systems training.

Day 12

“Quick question: can the buyer do this?”

The email has a ninety-page agreement attached and no description of “this”. I reply asking which proposed action he means. He forwards a chain containing the proposed action, two competing versions of it and “Thoughts?”

I learn that “quick question” describes the time allowed for the answer.

The senior associate tells me to find the operative provision before reading every definition. This cuts twenty minutes off my next attempt. I feel I have acquired a small illegal advantage.

Day 19

My first research note comes back with almost all of it deleted.

There is also a comment: “This is the answer. Put it first.”

She has kept the paragraph I wrote after finally understanding the question, which I had placed at the end to show how much work came before it.

We spend ten minutes discussing the uncertainty I should have made clearer. It is useful. I spend another ten privately mourning a footnote.

Day 26

I’m asked to send a “gentle nudge”.

My first version is too direct. My second sounds as though I’m apologising for the recipient having agreed to do something. We send the second.

“I am now trusted to chase people who are not trusted to reply.”

I text that to a friend. She asks whether that means I’m doing well. I tell her I think it means I’ve passed probation in Outlook.

Day 37

I spot something in a draft.

The buyer has five days to give notice of a claim. Another provision says notice only takes effect when the seller acknowledges it. I think the seller could simply not reply.

I check twice, then send it to the senior associate. She says it’s a good catch. My proposed fix removes a protection we still need, so she shows me how to distinguish delivery from acknowledgement without rewriting the whole clause.

We work through what happens if the email arrives after office hours. For once, spending twelve minutes on one sentence feels exactly right.

Moira notices I’m pleased before anyone else does.

“Good day?”

I explain the notice provision. She listens to the whole thing.

“Excellent,” she says. “Save it in the right folder.”

Day 48

I join a client call expecting to take a note.

The client asks a question about the timetable. The senior associate says, “Amelia’s been tracking that.”

I answer. Nobody corrects me. The client says, “Great, thanks.”

For the rest of the call I take unnecessarily beautiful notes. Afterwards, I put the timetable somewhere I can find it again without recreating the entire feeling.

Day 57

“Make it commercial” means shorten it.

Yesterday it meant add a qualification. Last week it meant restore the qualification the same partner had removed.

I start keeping a private list. It is becoming less a glossary than a record of weather.

Victoria Ames, our Director of Legal Operations, asks which stages actually need partner approval. I say I don’t know. She thanks me for a clear answer.

Day 64

The client’s impossible Wednesday deadline turns out to be Friday. I discover this because the client mentions it on a call.

Wednesday was an internal deadline. Tuesday, which I was given, was a buffer inside Wednesday. My Monday evening was a buffer inside Tuesday.

The partner has still not reviewed the note.

I spend forty minutes wording a reminder about an answer that took thirty minutes to produce. I cannot decide whether mentioning Friday is helpful or evidence that I have been communicating with the client.

I settle on “Conscious of timing”.

Day 81

I run a small closing checklist. Nothing dramatic happens. Every document has the right name, everyone signs the right version, and one missing attachment is located before anyone outside the firm asks for it.

The senior associate says, “That was well organised.”

I go home while it is light and buy ingredients instead of a meal in a tray. Halfway through chopping an onion, I check my phone.

Day 100

A new starter asks when people are allowed to go home.

“It depends,” I hear myself say.

He waits for the rest. I recognise the expression from my directory photograph.

I ask what he’s working on. Nothing needs doing tonight. I tell him to leave.

“Should I tell anyone?”

“Yes,” I say. “Just don’t ask it as a question.”