During my first six and a half years as a lawyer, I believed I was being incredibly productive and efficient through multitasking. I was constantly on the phone—whether walking to the subway or dining with friends—replying to clients and sending out directives. I thought this instant responsiveness made me a better lawyer. In reality, it was an addiction that kept me distracted from a life outside the office that felt unfulfilling. When there were lulls in work emails, I filled them with push notifications from the New Yorker about articles I never had time to read or Facebook "news" updates. Distraction was easy to find, and for a while, I avoided thinking about the impact of long hours and living in a perpetual state of fight-or-flight on my health. Most nights, I relied on Ambien or wine to sleep. When my doctor questioned my high blood pressure, I blamed coffee. Despite being active, I couldn't lose the extra weight I carried, which was linked to another hormonal imbalance—my menstrual cycle had been mostly absent during those years. Eventually, I realized I needed to make a change.
Six and a half years into my career, and while on track for partnership, I missed the birth of my sister's first child. This was the final moment in a series of missed personal milestones that woke me up to my dissatisfaction. Within weeks, I decided to quit, but given that our annual bonus didn't arrive until January, I waited. During those eight months, for the first time, I experimented with new work approaches and set guidelines to protect my time.
During the workday, I checked and responded to emails at set intervals (every two hours). This allowed me to have blocks of time for tasks that required deep concentration, like brief writing, which I'd previously pushed to nights or weekends when I was already exhausted. I turned off notifications on my computer and screened phone calls to prevent interruptions. I also took mental breaks during the day, trading desk lunches for walks outside. On weekdays, I refrained from checking my email until I arrived at work and only once after I left. I adhered to a more structured work schedule—arriving at the office at 8 a.m. and leaving by 6 p.m. On weekends, I left my work phone at home and engaged in hobbies like hiking or running in the woods, activities I'd long ignored. I also disabled push notifications on my personal phone, including news and social media apps and employed the same batch-email responding tactics.
The results changed my perspective on work. Initially, I found myself making excuses like, "Weird, I didn't see your email." But as days passed, I realized I didn't need them. Soon, I noticed that the fewer emails I sent, the fewer I received. When I gave communication my full attention, I responded more quickly and thoroughly. I completed concentration-intensive work during the day when I was most energized. Over those eight months, my sleep improved, my blood pressure dropped, and my menstrual cycle returned after two months and has been regular ever since.
Unexpectedly, I became a better lawyer. This was evident during a presentation I gave on behalf of a client to the Department of Justice that August. Months earlier, for a similar presentation, I had canceled weekend plans and worked late nights to prepare. In August, by preparing during the protected weekday blocks, I was able to visit family the weekend before. At the presentation, I was confident and relaxed in a way I'd never been. During the second half of that year—July through December—I refined my systems to the point where I worked (and billed) half as many hours as I had in the previous six months. The kicker: No one noticed. My caseload stayed the same, my year-end performance reviews were as good as ever, and when I gave notice, everyone was surprised. Those months taught me that the job I'd been doing for years could be done much more efficiently and with far less stress. I still use the tactics I learned during that time.