I find that each attorney’s story about jumping to in-house practice is truly singular. Mine is no exception. It was early summertime when I got the call. I had foolishly forgotten to put on my shoes before picking up, and my bare feet blistered in the sweltering Sacramento heat as I paced around the pool—the only place at the house with any cell reception. After several weeks of back-and-forth, the call was brief and congratulatory; deceptively casual for what amounted to a life-changing event. I sailed back into the house with the news, met by hugs, delight, and alcohol over the din of endless questions. By autumn, I would already be in Chicago, applying for admission to the Illinois Bar as in-house counsel under Rule 8.9.
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