Hi, I’m Michael. I’m a second-year associate at a mid-market private equity firm in New York. I work on everything from sourcing to closing, but mostly, I live in the in-between — translating partner vision into Excel logic, managing analysts like a patient older sibling, and balancing twenty things while pretending I’m totally calm.

Analysts call me for clarity. VPs call me for updates. Partners call me on weekends. And yet, I kind of love it.

I start the day at 8:30 AM sharp. Coffee in hand, laptop open, AirPods in. First order of business: skim 40+ emails. Some are requests from portfolio companies, others are internal updates or vendor emails.

The partner has already sent one-line feedback like:

“Need clearer growth angle.”

I forward it to the analyst and type: “Let’s rework the positioning a bit.”

At 9:15 AM, I check in with the analyst on a model we’re building for a potential industrial services deal. I ask:

“Did you adjust the margin profile based on their latest customer mix?”

Silence.

“Let’s circle back before we send it to the VP.”

By 10:00 AM, I’m on my first call — diligence catch-up with our commercial advisor. The partner joins ten minutes late, asks three questions, and drops off. I stay to absorb the real updates.

My job now kicks into gear. I open the IC memo draft, the operating model, and the buyer universe slide deck — all at once.

The analyst pings me with questions like:

“Should we normalize EBITDA for non-recurring COVID expenses?”

I reply:

“Yes, but back it out clearly in the bridge and show the add-back sensitivity.”

It sounds complex. It is.

At noon, I lead a quick sync with our deal team. I walk the VP through key diligence findings and let the analyst screen-share updated outputs. I’m simultaneously giving live comments while typing out questions for the founder call later.

Lunch is a 12-minute chicken bowl eaten with one hand while I’m reformatting a bar chart. Glamorous? No. Efficient? Absolutely.

We’re preparing for an internal investment committee update tomorrow. That means one thing: war room mode.

I revise slide language to reflect our updated thinking on the market thesis — making sure we don't overpromise, but still sound confident. I add a note:

“Let’s tone down ‘market leader’ to ‘top-tier operator’ — they only have 6% share.”

At 3:30 PM, I hop on a Zoom with a co-investor. The partner wants to know if they're still aligned on deal structure. They are — sort of. I take detailed notes and immediately ping our legal counsel to double-check terms.

By 5:00 PM, I’m reviewing the updated IC memo from the analyst. The numbers look fine, but the narrative needs work. I rewrite the executive summary to make it punchier and more thematic — more “why we believe” and less “what they do.”

At 7:15 PM, I send the full pack to the VP for review. I add a short note:

“Key updates in redline. Let me know if we need to recalibrate tone or positioning.”

At 8:00 PM, the VP responds:

“Looks good. Can we simplify the returns slide and move portfolio synergies to the appendix?”

I roll up my sleeves and jump back into it.

I call the analyst to walk through final edits and give tips on avoiding over-justification.

“Less text, more conviction. Assume the partner’s skimming this on his phone.”

By 10:00 PM, we have the revised pack. I recheck numbers, formatting, footnotes — all of it. I feel a weird mix of relief and pride. We’re ready for the IC tomorrow.

At 11:45 PM, I send it out. Subject line: “IC Pack – Final for Review.” Fingers crossed we don’t get a 6:30 AM email saying: “Let’s rethink the structure.”

Being an associate is all about balance — strategic thinking and execution. I’m expected to know the details cold but also see the bigger picture. I manage up, manage down, and manage expectations, all while trying to make sure every deliverable is crisp and defensible.

It’s intense. But I get to influence deals, shape narratives, and work closely with people who’ve done this for decades. And occasionally… I even leave the office before midnight. That’s growth.