Very exciting, I graduated from law school on Friday! All of the combined law students graduated from the university Great Hall, a large sandstone room with high ceilings, oil paintings and stained glass windows. A perfect place for us all to congratulate ourselves on being masters of the universe. It seems that the best way to feel important is to dress up in mysterious gowns with matching black mortar board hats.
The graduation speech was given by a prominent 50-something female judge. She gave a run down of her experiences in the legal profession and the sexism she faced along the way, with male partners condescendingly referring to her as "dear". She gave a candid overview of the risks and challenges facing members of the legal profession, which is one of the four traditional professions: law, medicine, divinity and the military. She outlined the conflict that we will face as lawyers, between billable hours and the other things in life like family, friends, other interests, and moral values.
After the ceremony I had brunch at a funky little restaurant cafe with my mum, grandmas, and brothers and sisters. At about 2pm, after a long brunch, the drinking festivities began in earnest. I started drinking with one of my best friends at the Belgian Beer Cafe, a dangerous way to begin, each Belgian beer was around 8.7% alcohol/volume. From there we went to the main graduate party and the drinking continued until early into the morning. And who ever said that lawyers are alcoholics?
During the party I got to talking with another graduate who has taken a job at one of the top big city law firms. This particular law firm was involved in a paper shredding scandal several years ago, and I went to great lengths to bring "paper shredding" into the conversation at every opportunity. Interestingly, the girl informed me that there is a big box of documents on the top shelf of the cupboards in her office labelled "shredding". It seems that old habits die hard.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
All of the clients that I am working for at the moment are private equity firms. What that means is that they have large amounts of money and are looking for attractive investment opportunities. Private equity firms often get a lot of their money from superannuation or 401K funds.
In 2005 and 2006, before the sub-prime mortgage crisis hit, private equity was the most glamorous kind of legal work to be involved with. It helps to remember that whenever anyone talks about glamorous business, what they really mean is there is shit loads of money to be made, excuse my French.
To make the incredibly high returns on their money, private equity firms borrow large amounts of relatively cheap money from banks. They target under performing businesses that have strong and steady cash flows that can be used to pay back the banks. They buy with a view to hold for 3 to 5 years, and then sell the business to recover their money and, hopefully, their profits.
The key to this business model is the availability of large amounts of cheap money from banks. The problem now is that the money has dried up. Two years ago a private equity firm could borrow 80% of the purchase price for a business from a bank. They are now lucky if they can borrow 50% of the purchase price. So, there are less deals being done and consequently, less legal work.
There is still legal work to be done for private equity firms that are looking to sell businesses that they acquired 3 to 5 years ago. Two years ago my group worked mainly for buyers of businesses, we now act primarily for people who are looking to sell.
I had to go to the offices of one of our private equity clients this week to collect some signed documents. It was an interesting experience, I had never been to the offices of a private equity firm before. I entered our clients building and walked to the ground floor reception to check which floor I needed to go to. I scanned the board that lists the firms in the building and the corresponding floor numbers. Our client wasn't there.
I told the man behind the desk that I was looking for Firm X. He smiled, "level 45, use the second set of elevators". I alighted from the lift and was confronted with the door to my clients' offices. A locked glass automatic sliding door with security intercom. It seems they don't want visitors.
Ludicrous, on the other side of the glass door was a massive corporate logo affixed to polished mahogany wall. As if they are keen to remind themselves of each morning when they enter the office that they are indeed masters of the universe.
The receptionist buzzed me in and as I entered I instictively looked around for a reception desk. There was none. I found myself in a small closed room with a door at either end. Two modern reclining designer leather chairs sat in the middle of the room. No table, no magazines, no newspapers. I couldn't decide whether I should sit down, or whether the chairs were merely for decoration purposes.
My pondering was cut short when a door at one end of the room opened. I polite and very business like woman appeared, she handed me an envelope and then promptly disappeared from the mysterious place from which she had come.
Private equity firms, mysterious clients indeed.
In 2005 and 2006, before the sub-prime mortgage crisis hit, private equity was the most glamorous kind of legal work to be involved with. It helps to remember that whenever anyone talks about glamorous business, what they really mean is there is shit loads of money to be made, excuse my French.
To make the incredibly high returns on their money, private equity firms borrow large amounts of relatively cheap money from banks. They target under performing businesses that have strong and steady cash flows that can be used to pay back the banks. They buy with a view to hold for 3 to 5 years, and then sell the business to recover their money and, hopefully, their profits.
The key to this business model is the availability of large amounts of cheap money from banks. The problem now is that the money has dried up. Two years ago a private equity firm could borrow 80% of the purchase price for a business from a bank. They are now lucky if they can borrow 50% of the purchase price. So, there are less deals being done and consequently, less legal work.
There is still legal work to be done for private equity firms that are looking to sell businesses that they acquired 3 to 5 years ago. Two years ago my group worked mainly for buyers of businesses, we now act primarily for people who are looking to sell.
I had to go to the offices of one of our private equity clients this week to collect some signed documents. It was an interesting experience, I had never been to the offices of a private equity firm before. I entered our clients building and walked to the ground floor reception to check which floor I needed to go to. I scanned the board that lists the firms in the building and the corresponding floor numbers. Our client wasn't there.
I told the man behind the desk that I was looking for Firm X. He smiled, "level 45, use the second set of elevators". I alighted from the lift and was confronted with the door to my clients' offices. A locked glass automatic sliding door with security intercom. It seems they don't want visitors.
Ludicrous, on the other side of the glass door was a massive corporate logo affixed to polished mahogany wall. As if they are keen to remind themselves of each morning when they enter the office that they are indeed masters of the universe.
The receptionist buzzed me in and as I entered I instictively looked around for a reception desk. There was none. I found myself in a small closed room with a door at either end. Two modern reclining designer leather chairs sat in the middle of the room. No table, no magazines, no newspapers. I couldn't decide whether I should sit down, or whether the chairs were merely for decoration purposes.
My pondering was cut short when a door at one end of the room opened. I polite and very business like woman appeared, she handed me an envelope and then promptly disappeared from the mysterious place from which she had come.
Private equity firms, mysterious clients indeed.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Monday morning I got into the office early. I’m not a morning person, but I’ve discovered that it’s best to come in early.
By heading in early you can beat peak hour, you save 30 minutes right there. My charge out rate is over $200 per hour, so in a sense I’m saving over a hundred dollars by getting in early.
Well, it’s not like I see any of the money that the firm bills clients. The partners are the ones who are making all of the money.
I hope they appreciate my efforts in waking up early…
All of the junior lawyers get into the office early. This makes it extremely hard to stand out. You have to be exceptional just to be run of the mill.
Waking up early also avoids the panicked feeling that starts to build when peak hour buses start arriving at the bus stop already full. I can’t afford to be late. I can’t afford to make a bad impression.
Nine times out of ten the partners don’t call on you first thing in the morning. Of course, that means that ten percent chance that they will.
Standing at the bus stop, running late, clock ticking by. I just know that today will be the day that the partner needs me to do an urgent piece of work that was supposed to go out to the client yesterday afternoon.
In short, it’s best to get in early.
But I digress…
So, Monday morning I got into the office early. I logged into outlook first thing to check whether I had been sent any urgent instructions from my supervising partner over night.
Luckily, I hadn’t. But I did have one email.
An email had been sent around to all of the lawyers in our firm at 11pm the night before (Sunday night). I read the email, "Human Resources have organised a lunch time professional development session for this Friday entitled ‘Stress Less: an introduction to meditation’. The session is limited to 30 participants."
Perfect, this is exactly what I need. I hurriedly clicked the button to register for the session. Ah, I could just feel the anticipatory positive relaxing vibes washing over me. This is exactly what I need.
A moment after clicking the button, a pop-up box comes up on my screen. "We regret to inform you that the PD session that you have tried to register for is full. Please send us an email if you would like to be placed on a reserve list."
Stunned surprise! I can feel my anxiety levels starting to rise.
By heading in early you can beat peak hour, you save 30 minutes right there. My charge out rate is over $200 per hour, so in a sense I’m saving over a hundred dollars by getting in early.
Well, it’s not like I see any of the money that the firm bills clients. The partners are the ones who are making all of the money.
I hope they appreciate my efforts in waking up early…
All of the junior lawyers get into the office early. This makes it extremely hard to stand out. You have to be exceptional just to be run of the mill.
Waking up early also avoids the panicked feeling that starts to build when peak hour buses start arriving at the bus stop already full. I can’t afford to be late. I can’t afford to make a bad impression.
Nine times out of ten the partners don’t call on you first thing in the morning. Of course, that means that ten percent chance that they will.
Standing at the bus stop, running late, clock ticking by. I just know that today will be the day that the partner needs me to do an urgent piece of work that was supposed to go out to the client yesterday afternoon.
In short, it’s best to get in early.
But I digress…
So, Monday morning I got into the office early. I logged into outlook first thing to check whether I had been sent any urgent instructions from my supervising partner over night.
Luckily, I hadn’t. But I did have one email.
An email had been sent around to all of the lawyers in our firm at 11pm the night before (Sunday night). I read the email, "Human Resources have organised a lunch time professional development session for this Friday entitled ‘Stress Less: an introduction to meditation’. The session is limited to 30 participants."
Perfect, this is exactly what I need. I hurriedly clicked the button to register for the session. Ah, I could just feel the anticipatory positive relaxing vibes washing over me. This is exactly what I need.
A moment after clicking the button, a pop-up box comes up on my screen. "We regret to inform you that the PD session that you have tried to register for is full. Please send us an email if you would like to be placed on a reserve list."
Stunned surprise! I can feel my anxiety levels starting to rise.
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