A Day In The Life Of An In-House Counsel

In this witty blog-styled account of things, Mehak Oberoi takes us through a day in her life as an in-house counsel. Read on to uncover the humor, challenges, and unexpected twists that she faces in her role as the Legal Head Hydro Power, APAC, GE Vernova
Blogpost by Mehak Oberoi

 

I get out of bed, stretch lazily as I sip my coffee, and prop my legs up on the couch, smiling to myself thinking about the easy breezy day ahead of me. Some meetings and perhaps even some downtime. Lo and behold, my phone starts ringing, and an anxious voice informs me that there has been a flood at a project site. I almost spit out my coffee. My day of leisure has gone down the drain faster than the floodwater.

This is pretty much how I would describe the life of an in-house counsel!

Following my failed attempt to satisfy my caffeine craving, I swiftly complete my morning rituals and make my way to the office, all the while fielding a couple of frantic calls regarding the damage at the project site.

Juggling my laptop, lunch bag, and phone frantically, I make my way to the office in the hopes that the elevator won't decide to break down and abandon me on the high-rise. Murphy’s law! Anything is possible.

I enter the office and make my way to the cabin. I fumble my way in, racing against time to begin my meetings about the mishap's when, where, and how.

Unfortunately, my laptop has a nervous breakdown right before I'm supposed to log in for my meetings, proving once again that Murphy's Law is fully operational today. Nothing is ever easy in the realm of in-house counsel, and it's as if the system is trying to mock me for it. 

As I try to get this automatic machine to back up my efforts to continue with my day, I take a few deep breaths and wait patiently. At last, it gives in, and the legal fights of the day can begin. The incessant flow of emails keeps piling up, and no matter how essential one is, I must first sort through them all. I drink my coffee and try to make sense of the mysterious messages coming in from different departments.

After a quick perusal, I switch gears into crisis mode, attempting to glean information, consulting with contract managers to ascertain the company's rights under the contract, and formulating a plan for rapid action to minimise potential hazards. Simultaneously, I make notes to explain the intricacies of a contract in a way that won't put everyone to sleep—a sure art form I've mastered!

Just as I am able to pen down my final word on the go-to strategy, there is a knock on my door. I brace myself and
look upwondering what’s coming my way next!

It is Mr. Troubleton! The sales head. Pun intended I guess.

Mr. Troubleton: Knock, knock. Me: Who's there?
Mr. Troubleton: Major. Me: Major who?
Mr. Troubleton: Major crisis.

I can't help but chuckle at the witty repartee.

Despite the constant stream of legal fires, I have to put out, I've learned to embrace the humor in these situations. After all, if I couldn't laugh at the absurdity of it all, I'd probably be crying in my coffee by now. Humor can be a powerful tool in the workplace, providing stress relief, team unification, and even idea generation. As an in-house counsel, I've found that a well-placed joke or quip can go a long way in diffusing tense situations and keeping morale high.


Me: Whatever it is, I say, come on in! (Mental note to self: be careful not to smile at yourself first thing in the morning and fantasise about a relaxing day—God is listening!!)

Me: Please tell me how I can be of help. 
Mr. Troubleton: Due to the customer's upcoming personal leave, the negotiation meeting that was originally scheduled for next week has been pre-scheduled.

Me: Hmmm… I refrain from using my French and think about getting to business on this one.

Ok then, let's put the negotiator hat on. 

Me: MIT? Could you tell me?
Mr. Troubleton: (about as lost as a fog)
Me: (making a mental note to make him repeat the training) MIT—must haves, ideally haves, and trade-offs.
Mr. Troubleton: Oh my! Alright, we're aware of the things that won't work, but we haven't considered the others. 
Me: Can you prepare those, and then let's sit in the evening to align ourselves?
Mr. Troubleton: Could we actually sit on it together? It will save time.
Me: (Considering ways to express the most elegant and refined version of the words that come to me.) What do you think about doing an initial review and making a note of any questions or concerns, and then we can discuss your observations together?

I am mentally rejoicing that I may have just managed to delay putting on yet another hat of a Trouble Mitigator until the evening, hopefully, by then, I would have finished all the other stuff piling up like a mountain of Legos.

As he stands up and smiles (I must say, he is showing a remarkable amount of restraint to not push me another time) and the door shuts, I receive a WhatsApp message from my outside counsel: "We need to review the training module for tomorrow's training." It's like a never-ending game of whack-a-mole, except instead of moles, it's urgent requests and legal inquiries popping up left and right.

After logging in, my mindset shifts to that of a trainer, and I dive into the modalities of it all. In the middle of my dialogue with the external counsel, I see a sneak peek of an email that sprung up on my laptop saying that the transfer of data from a resigned employee to another employee requires my legal clearance. Now I am half listening to the external counsel and wondering what could be the repercussions for my approval. Nothing ever comes to legal unless... now what could unless be in this scenario?

I make a mental note to speak with HR to get the context immediately after this because, as always, it is urgent! Without my clearance, the data will wipe off the server today!

I am able to finish up, provide the team with my final feedback, and then, just as I decide to move on to tackling the next issue, DING! An invitation to a meeting to prepare a report on the flood that will be presented to the board. If only that cloud have exploded tomorrow, I would have all my ducks in a row! Quite frankly, I wish it wouldn’t have burst at all, but if it really had to, it could just have waited another day.

As I see the mountain of workload piling on by the minute, I start to think of all the productivity tools that I have learned through various books and wonder which one in my kitty I must pull out today to bring some semblance to my day.

I finally retrieved one of my favourite tools—the Eisenhower Matrix. The issue is, sometimes there is a very fine line between urgent and important vs. urgent and not important, and that’s when your decision depends on the impact of the delay in tackling the issue. If the answer is that all hell will break loose at all levels of the organization— Voila! That’s the one you tackle first.

I jot out a list of everything I need to do, divide it up using the Eisenhower Matrix, and get to work...as the day progresses...

As the day progresses, I navigate through the chaos, leveraging every tool and skill in my arsenal. Despite the unexpected flood, the endless emails, and the urgent requests, I find moments to chuckle at the absurdities and appreciate the camaraderie of my colleagues. Each crisis tackled and contract reviewed is a reminder of the vital role I play as an in-house counsel. By the time I wrap up my day, exhausted but accomplished, I realise that no two days are ever the same in this role. 

And as I sip my final cup of coffee, I reflect on how every challenge and unexpected twist shapes me into a stronger and more resilient legal professional. Because, in the end, the unpredictable nature of my job is what keeps it so exciting and fulfilling. 

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