Friday, December 28, 2012


It is a strange sensation being in a firm full of people who are furiously working on end-of-the-year projects while I just walk in slow motion. In case you haven't heard, rich people might have until the end of the year to transfer up to $10.24 million tax-free. That opportunity probably goes away at the end of the year, given Congress's lack of ability to cooperate on much of anything, whether it's a treaty to effectively export US disability rights norms to the rest of the world or an attempt to maintain the full faith and credit of the federal government.

I don't really have the multimillionaire clientele that justifies this crazy amount of work. I'm doing a handful of mostly non-billable projects about simple estate planning. I don't mind the work, but it lacks the urgency that keeps me from getting drowsy when I think for more than twenty minutes about estate planning.

But even if I had the urgent, exciting work, it wouldn't amount to much in the long run. That's not what I want out of my life right now. I would like to stop feeling sorry for myself, spinning my wheels, and feeling burnt out on things that aren't of much importance from my perspective and to just start creating things that really interest me. The only thing stopping me from reading and writing about things that I care about is my fear and my constant self-definition as a static being, rather than someone who is capable of becoming something else. I do have a baby to take care of, but I can make time if it's something that I care about.

It would be sad if billable work for rich people were the only thing left to give me passion and excitement. I want more out of this than that. This whole end of the year crush is as fake as events get. It kind of mirrors my broader attempts to inject energy into my life and overcoming how burnt out I feel by focusing on artificial stimulants. E.g. I'm depressed about the prospects for real political engagement, so I've resigned myself to cynicism, ignoring useful stories and focusing on whatever silly or snarky event this week excites my outrage.

I'm getting so tired of it.

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