About Beth Rees
An Artistically Inclined Twenty-Something . . .
I’ve got an oddball background for someone in the legal profession. I came to adult life in the fine arts – I was an independent contractor before I knew what the term meant.
I worked for the theatre. I was backstage, working as the assistant costume manager. I was responsible for making sure the actors and dancers’ costumes were clean, pressed, and organized by five minutes to curtain, so no one would have to go out on stage naked. Unless the script called for it. Those were the easy plays.
I loved it. I got regular gigs because I was dependable. I always produced quality work on time. I was able to soothe the prima donnas’ ruffled feathers and get the zippers mended, the ripped hems repaired, and find replacement pants when the other pair went wandering. (Just how did Jimmy’s tuxedo trousers end up in the rafters? The world may never know.)
Turned Jane Lunchbox Adult --
It was a great gig through college. I graduated, moved to Arizona, and started looking for a professional job. A job with an office. A job where I could help make the trains run on time and keep the world spinning. I found my way into the world of personal injury and lawyers.
On the one hand, working in a law office is a lot like working in the theatre. You have drama divas who need hands held and cues marked out. You tell stories in the most convincing fashion to elicit sympathy and outrage. You have props and cues and orchestrate climactic scenes.
At the same time, because it’s a square job (in a square profession) it comes with all the burdens of being an employee. As an employee, someone else tells you what to do, when to do it, how to do it. I’d wake up at night with a bright idea and think “Hey, if I could only get to my workspace, I could take world-changing action.” But nope, because I didn’t have (and couldn’t get) remote access. When I finally got to the office, it would be gone.
Or I’d remember enough to bring it up, only to be told, “No, that’s not how we work.” Or “Take it through the process” which is just a long, drawn out version of “No.”
I brought my quality work to the workspace – I can’t do otherwise. But my creative soul was withering. Worst of all was the busywork that is the birthright of every employee.
As an employee, you are paid first, to do the work, and second, to be present in case they need you. I’d do my work and do it well, do the work of the other people in the office, and then I’d dust my desk, rearrange my office, polish the reception room furniture – all because there was nothing left to do. Once I’d done all the work I could find, and asked my boss if they had anything I could help with (and done that) I was stuck. I couldn’t leave the office – what if the phone rang? But I had no control over my job flow.
Bitten by a Radioactive Attorney!!!
One day, out of the blue, a personal injury attorney called me to see if I’d be interested in doing some contract work. I quoted him a reasonable fee for my efforts, and got a taste of what it would be like to be my own boss.
I liked it. I started working to put feelers out in the community (a lot like this one – or how else did you find your way here?) and found that there were plenty of clients out there for me. I could help them run their offices remotely, getting things done and pushing their cases along while they were off at court, in depositions, making it rain, or getting their required CLE done. I knew the steps in the personal injury dance, and could calm a frantic client or deal with a fractious adverse attorney. They didn’t have to stand over me and supervise – and I didn’t have to hang out in their office on a glorious spring day. I could take my laptop out to the park or just to my standing desk in the backyard and get the work done.
Becomes One Demanding B
My experience lets me know what to do and my ability to organize lets me know where to find it. Give me a call, and let’s explore how I can help you get more done.