Hello again. 

Time away only makes the heart grow fonder, right? Sure. Let's go with that. 

So, currently, I am still chugging away at my initial job. Which, I suppose, in this economy, is a good thing. However, you know what? That excuse, "the economy" is so over used. I mean, yeah, I understand that the situation out there is not in the best shape possible, but it should never be used as a reason not to try.

And trust me. Complacency kills. I has for me. After realizing that, and I mean, really realizing that, I decided to try again to find a place where I might actually have the ability to "grow". I applied a lot of places. And thankfully, I finally got an interview. 

It's like spending all this time trying to find the land when you are surrounded by ocean and you finally glimpse something off in the horizon. It's the hope of it all, really. And, thank God I at leas have that. Should keep me floating for a while longer not matter the outcome.

And, with that, I am back to work. Back to drafting briefs and checking off "to-dos" here. And, yes, getting ready to FRIDAY.

So this morning I covered a pretrial for one of the other attorneys here. Nothing big. Landlord-Tenant issue.

After looking through the the scraps of paper stuffed in a manilla folder that was the case file, I figured that I could cut these renters a break. It seems like we (the landlord client) wanted something like 1,000 bucks for an outstanding water bill. However, it looks like the tenant might have actually let the landlord know that there was an issue with the plumbing causing a water leak. 

Whatever. 

In the end, I though that maybe offering to just not return the security deposit and washing our hands of the whole thing would be the best outcome. So, I let the renters know I'd try to sell that to my client, but set the case for a bench trial--just in case. 

Back in the office, I let the paralegal to the lawyer whose case I was covering know about what my offer to settle would be. She just looked at me with a half smiling grin.  I told her I thought that was the best outcome for everyone.

Still smiling, she looks at me and says, "Oh, that's because you have morals still. He'll never agree to that. He'll want to gut the other side for everything they have even if he's wrong."

Fantastic. Maybe I need to kill a puppy to get that killer instinct?

 So, I spent some time explaining to the client not to explode. Spent time telling him to just answer the questions.

10 minutes in I was in the hallway with him literally pleading with him not to fuck up his case by treating opposing counsel like he had just slept with his wife.

2 hours later. There was calmness. 

Last 15 minutes of the dep, it was like someone flipped the wrong switch and despite my best efforts, the man verbally exploded. (Sigh)

Yeah, it was pretty much: PALMS to FACE.

 I fell asleep.

That’s the only reason I can really guess why I have not update this thing in over…oh, 5 months, give or take. I guess, I really just didn’t feel all that talkative. Then again, I dabbled in some twitter action, but even that seems to have hit a bit of a lull. (There are only so many times you can tweet “I am alive. And hungry.”)

At the new location. Same firm. Better office. Same benefits (which are none). I do know I need to get out of this place, if only to move up (ever so slightly) in the real world of work. It’s not that I do not have enough work, I have plenty, thank you. It’s just that an office and lax dress code do not pay the bills. Or the student loans.

So where to go? When to look? The answers: Anywhere. And, now. It’s just that in the middle of life moving about, the whole looking around thing just gets pushed back…

In general, life has been chippy. I am very happy with life. As I usually am. She has treated me well. And, here’s hoping there is more of that in the future. And who am I say no if she wants to bestow even more good fortune my way? Bring. It. On.

The Wolverine are 2-0 and it seems like the 2008 season was all a bad dream. I’ll be in Ann Arbor this weekend for the Eastern game. Pretty sure we can win that one—but seeing as college football can be a bit crazy, I’ll still be hesitantly optimistic.

Hesitantly optimistic. A friend used that term with me recently (or something similar) when describing his relationship with a new girl he is seeing and it struck me…just not sure how I was struck by it. I mean , it’s a great pairing of words. A great juxtaposition of opposites. To be hesitant, naturally, implies some amount of fear or trepidation. Something pulling you back. Some uncertainty. Something telling you, “Hey, jerkface, don’t go all in on this one!” While optimistic seems to counter that with saying, “Hope for the best! It’ll be fine! I swear this is love!” What a crazy pairing. Reminds me of the lyrics to song, a Del Amitri song at that:

“When you’re driving with the brakes on

When you’re swimming with your boots on,

It’s hard to say you love someone

And it’s hard to say you don’t…”

I suppose at the end of the day, even if you are swimming with your boots on, at least you are swimming. And if whatever it is, is right, you don’t mind the soggy boots, and hell, they’ll come off with no problem. And hell, they are only soggy boots.

And, if whatever it is, isn’t right. Well dammit. At least you can get your ass out of the pool and out the door without having to worry about stopping to tie your shoes.

You’ll still look funny though. And feel funny. But hey, you’ll be long gone, and, yes, eventually dry and ready to dive right back in in no time.

I mean, seriously.  4:40PM? That's when the partner decides to come in and bark out orders??  4:40PM?

Yep, this is for sure a Monday.

1) The old fella who is our paralegal has a habit of walking into my office while I am on the phone and proceeds to just stand there. Clearly noting that I am on the phone.  He chooses to just stand there. Slightly passed the doorway, in my office, while I am on the phone.  Does he even attempt to sit while I talk? Nope. He just stands there. Looms there. It is eerie. And besides weird, it just creeps me out.

2) Attitude from the front desk girl.  I mean, seriously. I spend most of the day already hearing you rant on with whoever is on the other side of the phone (who rarely ever is a client).  Having her take her bad day experience out on me by giving me attitude and poor service is plain unacceptable.  (Yes, I know I sound like a arrogant SOB, but honestly, if you had to deal with her on a mix of her bad days and your bad days--you'd understand)

All I can say about this website is that you are all very welcome.

Not anything bad for those work folks out there, so don't worry about clicking on over. It's a pretty good place to go when you think that you are having a bad day...

Just not this bad.

Got email from boss.  Read email from boss. Want nothing more than to reply with words that could only lead to my immediate firing.  But damn it all if it wouldn't be worth it.  

Today was the Court of Appeals. Another attorney in the firm screwed up the filing date and therefore, we lost our right to oral argument. Senior attorney decided to go anyway and try to get an argument in anyway. 

The judges call the case.  Senior attorney goes up, makes a joke, and in less than 1 minute returns back.  Needless to say, the judges could care less about entertaining questions when they don't have to.  Senior attorney however, was not so happy.

He was fuming. He was sputtering out scary words about the deficient attorney.  Words like "malpractice".

In the end, his fury was spent on everyone, including little ol' me.  Naturally, I just sat there, "listened", and nodded my head.  And although his bad mood spread through the firm like a raw chicken in a microwave (trust me, never do that), he eventually just left after barking out impossible orders.  Orders that I am pretty sure I have no idea (or desire for that matter) to do.

Heavy is the head, I suppose. I just went for the free lunch.

It's not like I purposely seek answers to questions that are directly opposite of the answers the people asking the questions are seeking to hear.  It just happens that way. A lot.

The worst is when it is senior attorney.  Usually, I'll get a cross look and a firm, "Look, just find the law." Right, the 18 1/2 hours I just spent of Westlaw researching this area of law were really just a cursory review of the matter and I was actually spending my time counting the number of yellow flags in citing cases section. Jerk.

Other times, I get upset and want to act out like a pompous jerk myself.  Case in point: Office manager comes in with her list of billing for a client whom we are counsel to in a guardianship matter.  In a nutshell, fiduciary fees are paid out annually wherein the fiduciary, our client here, attaches the firm's bill for payment from the ward's estate.  <--- Wow.  If that seems awfully boring, it's because it is.

Anyway, the point is that the firm gets paid at the end of the year. Each year.  And not periodically.  In order to get paid periodically, like say, an actual client, the firm should bill the fiduciary (our client), have them pay out of pocket, and then the fiduciary will get reimbursed at the end of the year for that.  Problem solved.

Said office manager comes in, says she wants payment from the ward's estate.  "Do a motion." I, feeling awfully tart for some reason, look up from my computer, see her sitting there across my desk, in my office, and allow my brain to take in her obviously flawed legal request.  I take a breath, and kindly instruct her that "doing a motion" isn't how something like this works.

At this point, for some reason unknown to me, she is still sitting there with her billing and again states that all I need to do is file a motion.  And that I need to do so ASAP so the firm can get its money.  "Just do it...", she says rather impatiently, still sitting across my desk, in my office.

Now, rather a bit more perturbed by her clueless legal knowledge mixed in with her inpatient bitchy tone, wander off into a selfish evil dream land wherein I can reply, without any concern whatsoever, "Fuck off. When you become licensed to practice law, maybe then I'll decide to consider your requests regarding legal procedures. But, most likely even then, were you to enter my office with the same amount of bitchy, self-righteous pomp, I'd still find some way on God's green earth to flatly reject your request and tell you in no uncertain amount of words to, once again, fuck off."

She is still sitting there now, with no clue why I am smiling.  I let her know that "I'll look into it."

5:33 last night.  Two senior attorneys come into my office.  "Do this motion tomorrow. I don't care if you win.  You won't. The law is directly against us. I don't want to get up in the morning to go and lose. Congrats."

8:33 last night. I finish my initial prep.  Initial thought, "Wow. I am going to lose."

8AM today. I attempt to enter the courthouse with my phone. Flash my bar card. It's expired and the new card is in the office.  It's 4 degrees outside and my car is all the flip on the other side of the parking lot. The security guard, who resembles Cedric Daniels from the Wire isn't cutting me any slack. Begrudgingly I head back to the car to put my phone away.

9:33 today. Still haven't been called. I am still cold because of Daniels.

10:33 today. Finally called. Opposing counsel stands up and tells the judge he has nothing to add to his written motions and sits down.  I snap a glance over to old white guy and think that he is an arrogant prick.

10:35 today. I lose.

1:16PM today. Despite the loss, at least I got a chance to grab some coffee that wasn't "office made".  It's been a pretty sweet day.

 Well, I have given in to my cold.  And, in all reality, it isn't that bad.  But, I figure if I stay home today, I can get rid of it for good.  Or nor. We'll see. In any event, it'll make Friday that much more lovely when it rolls around. 

By the way, the furnace in my house is dead. There are space heaters on in full force.  Someone was supposed to come today to check on that. Yeah, not quite sure what happened to the guy. 

Blankets? Check. Space heaters? Check,

All and all, an awesome day. It's like camping.  Without the need to use public restrooms. And Sudafed. 

So, here's the thing.  I really don't want to get sick.  I mean, I completely understand that this is the season for the cold, flu, etc.  But, I just don't want to get sick.  Consider me rebelling against the fashionable common cold.  It just doesn't look good on me.

I've been at work all day popping zucol.  I've learned a few things from my zucol "desolving tablet" popping:

1) Always, always, always get a flavored brand medicinal product.  I don't care if the "cherry" flavor actually tastes like week old kool-aide, it has to be better than no flavor.  These things tastes like moth balls.  That dissolve.  So, it's like a moth boll has somehow come to life, found my tongue, and decided to reside there only to dissolve into a disgusting small mess itself all over my taste buds.  Mmm...modern medicine.

2) Always carry Dayquil as backup.  While the zucol is a great "preemptive strike" on the common cold, once the cold has taken hold of at least some of your body, only taking zucol is like trying to damm the water after the village is underwater sinking.  Sure, you'll slow the oncoming flood waters, but John Smith over in aforementioned village is already taking diving lessons off his couch. In other words, barn door closed, horse is having tea in my living room.

3) Reggae man on the front of zucol's web page. Yeah, doesn't instill much confidence in me for their product.  That is of course, unless I wanted to grow my hair long, refuse to shower, and "take trip" with their medicine. Don't even get me started on the dog, the "punk girl" and my 3rd grade teacher who somehow made it on the product page next to Bob Marley.  Awesome.

And so I sit.  In an office with walls barren and grey save one wall that proudly displays my black and white Chicago Water Tower print.  How depressing.  This can't be good for my overall well being.  I did attempt to spruce up my office.  I rescured a dead potted plant from the file room a few weeks back and brought it int my office with the explicit idea of reviving the thing and in turn reviving my office.

It now resides next to my old bar journal. On the floor. Dead crumpled leaves atop dry, unattended to soil.

(sigh) At least it feels my pain.  I'm hoping one day I'll enter and it'll have turned into a beautiful flower.  I. am. LAZY.

And with that, I am off to scold my intern for whatever I can think of that will make me look like I know what I am doing all the while inquring into some cae or other with the paralegal to, once again, look like I am "involved" with something.  Then, I will return to my desk. Surf the web. Curse the weather. Sniffle. Sniffle. And repete until 5 o' clock rolls around.

Mind you, there are times things do actually get done.  And there are times that deps and "law work" do occupy my time and drive me insane.  Trust me, clients know just when to call. And just when to never want to hang up and blame and blah blah blah.  Usually around the time they get our bill.  Which always puzzles me when they call and drag on.  I feel like saying, "You know I'm billing you for this, right?" But, instead, I don't. I let them talk, and complain, or just wander into conversations that really have nothing to do with their case. Then I bill them. And, then, I bill.

As a side note: I could care less for spreadsheets.  They make everything seem so...logical...and sterile.  Much like the law.  So, when you combine the two, well, when you combine the two...you get dead potted plants.  And grey walls.

I'm contemplating taking another zucol already.

One word: addictive.

So, here's the deal.  After spending an HOUR this morning on the phone with Sprint/Nextel, I was able to get a "clear" answer as to how to switch from a Nextel phone to a Sprint phone.

Technically, they are the same company.

But of course, in the process of switching phones, they got an error report.  And for the love of all humanity, they had no idea why or how to get around it.  For some reason, the switch was not processing! They were confused and befuddled.  I believe I actually heard the man on the other line weep a bit.

In the end, he said that the switch from a Nextel phone to a Sprint phone can be "tricky" and that he'd get a tech on it right away!  And that, heck, he should be back with my by THIS AFTERNOON.  And if I didn't get a call, that I should call back in the afternoon.

Noon came and went.

So, on lunch I called. 

Mind you, before I let Sprint guy number one off the phone, I made sure to ask him, "Look, when I get off the phone with you, and I call back, are you sure whoever answers will know what the heck I am talking about??"

His reply: "Yes. Of course! We have made a ticket and the techs are aware and will be on it. Should be no problem."

Fast forward to this afternoon when I called. 

Laura, the friendly Sprintel rep. was more than happy to help me--but was puzzled as to why I had called back so early. "You know sir, these things take from 36 to 72 hours..."
"I know, I said.  But the guy I was on the phone with earlier said it'd be wrapped up by this afternoon..."
"That's strange," She quipped. "Because, like I said, it takes at least 36 to 72 hours."
"Yes, I know.  But I was told to call back this afternoon."
"Hold on..." Then she disappeared from the other line into the abyss of cheesy elevator music...

Upon returning, "Well sir, it looks like there was an error on switching, but the techs have not even seen the problem yet. I can try to activate it for you."
"Sure. Let's give it a go."
And, of course, we get an error. Again.

"Well sir, there's an error.  I can let the tech people know and they can try to resolve it in 36 to 72 hours."
"Well, fine. Should I wait for them to call?"
"What's that?"
"Should I wait to get their phone call?"
"Sir, this will take somewhere between 36 to 72 hours."

Face palm.

"YES, I know that, you've told me that.  But to be clear, I'll just have to wait until they contact me?"
"Oh, right. We have your contact number. It was created with this ticket."
"And they will call me."
"In 36 to 72 hours, sir."
"Right. I got that."
"Is there anything else I can do for you today?"
I'll tell you in 26 to 72 hours.
"No, thanks."

Two years ago my mother passed away. And, well, I am sure I can never really feel "over it".  And, quite frankly, that isn't how you are supposed to feel.  But, in that time, now, I think I've just come to accept it in a more peaceful and open way.  It's not a hurt, more of a vivid memory--happy memories. 

Dealing with another friend's loss this week, today, it brought a lot of those sad memories back.  Those uncertain times. And the tears and questions, doubts.  But, even that, even today, standing there, suit on, back row, church lights, flowers.  Even then, I was at a comfort with myself--almost wanting to somehow transfer that assurance that everything would be okay to her.  That if somehow a hug, a smile, or even a simple nod could somehow explain that, yes, it will hurt, but there are beautiful days to come.  And that, now, as I sit here, I realize that with the crowds gone, and the tears dry, that now, I am happy in the memories of my mother.  I am happy in the past.  Because, so much I do today, will do for the days to come, are shaped by my mother's love. 

Standing there today, again, I could feel the sadness in the room, I could feel the heaviness as the casket was carried to its final stop, and the tears were once again so very real. 

But I was happy.  I was sure.  And I know I can't extend that kind of feeling with such swiftness  And, really, I don't think it'd be right to even if I could.  Because I know, I know, that it is okay, and right to feel, really feel that sense of loss.  It only makes that hope so much brighter.  It takes time.  But we believe, with hope.

And so it goes, we let go, with hope.

I amaze myself.  This morning I was thinking about how long it had been since I last posted on here.  It's been a while. I keep putting it off with excuses such as "Well, I have to get this work done, " or "I just don't have time." Or something equally just untrue.  I mean, look at me. Right now. In my office. Door open. Boss in court. And me, knowing I have to write a motion by the end of the week--just typing away.  And not a single legal thought.  

Awesome.

I've been in a little bit of a rut lately.  Trying desperately to figure out what the hell I am doing with my life.  It's been an ongoing saga. I had an offer at another firm a few weeks back, but the thought of working in a place where I would be stuffed in a back room with a pile of documents only to be called on to shoot out some info here and there.  Oh, and I could forget about seeing a court room.  I would have to "learn about weekend work" (their words).  And frankly, I was not down with that.  And I know, I know. That's what a lawyer is all about! Weekend work, document piles, etc.  In the end folks, I just was not feeling it. So, more money be damned!

And so, here I still sit.  In the same firm.  But, at least, it looks like we are moving buildings. Into a swanky one down the block.  Where my office will not have a crack in the wall and where we can actually have "real" paralegals and the like. The law firm is picking up! So, I heard. So it seems. So where's my raise?

I had my review. At the end of September. We didn't get to the part where the money was really laid out.  I rescheduled and put it in the books for the next week to discuss my pay.  That was changed. So now, it is set for this Friday.  Which, barring the end of the world, should finally set what my pay will be.  Do I expect a HUGE raise? Maybe.  But realistically, I just need something to keep me convinced that I didn't totally screw up by not leaving when I had the chance. Wish me luck.

Well, the one thing that did come out of the review was that I now have a "personal trainer" at World's Gym.  His name is Richard Power.  Dick Power.  Yeah, I can't make this stuff up. Yeah, I know. It sounds glamorous. I go twice a week (just started--and already had to cancel today because a court file blew up before a motion this morning).  But, here's the thing. I have a feeling it may be used against me for my increase in pay.  What it comes down to is this: I'd rather be a fat well paid lawyer than a fit underpaid one. We'll see how that argument goes tomorrow.

And just in case you were wondering:  Although I have only gone to one session with "Mr. Power", I feel like my upper body has just been run over by a Mack Truck.  "Come on, John! Two more!!"  I was afraid of what would have happened if I stopped.  I mean, the guy is huge.  HUGE. 

So, that's that.  I still get occasionally blamed for screw-ups that are completely not mine (How could you send this motion out without attaching this exhibit!---when in reality, the big guy wrote it himself) and I still seem to never get the full "atta-boy" for my successful attempts.  In fact, even when I do manage to nail something--and I mean, wham! bamm! NAIL it.  I often get a look like, well, congrats, you didn't completely screw this up, but in the future, I'd also have added this or that.

Look. I know doing good work should be expected.  But for the love of Darkwing, throw me a flippin' bone once in a while!

That's all for now.  I'll leave you with this: Michigan football makes me sad/mad this season. Hazelnut powder flavored coffee is not as good as I thought it would be. And, never hire a Jewish law clerk because apparently EVERYDAY is some sort of holiday.

Simply. Amazing.

Here's another fun thing about being an attorney.  Having a secretary.  Well, actually, I don't have my own secretary, she really does stuff for the whole firm, but the fun still remains.  The fun being that no matter what, you always have someone harping on you to "hurry up and finish that motion!" Or, "The courier will be here at 3, have you even started writing that motion?"

Hehehe...

I suppose everyone needs to have someone yelping at them now and again.  I mean, I guess I can't always spend all day browsing ESPN or Drudge.  

And so it goes.  :)

 So, I have about 20 minutes before a one the firm's clients comes in to whine about not being taken care of.  Trust me, I look forward to hearing this guy's story AGAIN.  Really, though, in all honesty, you get some clients that no matter what--can never be made happy.  It just rains on my already rained on parade of a day.  Yay me.

On a better note, a verdict on a big case we had here at the firm was upheld by the trial court despite Defendant's motion for JNOV. Yay! And trust me, there was apt opportunity to grant that JNOV especially because the jury awarded damages for IIED.  But wait...what's that? The Plaintiff's response and reply brief was just too amazing to ignore?  It was legal brilliance on a paper?  Who could have written such a riveting and legally sound document that would have supported such an unlikely verdict for the Plaintiff?

Thank you. You're too kind.  

Here's what I find a little amusing about the whole thing.  Right after oral arguments, which the big man made, which were okay, we were walking back to the car and he was talking to me:

BM: You know, you could have done more with that response.
Me: Oh? Why?
BM: It wasn't very detailed. I mean, it was adequate, but it wasn't amazing. We need amazing work and well, we need to do better.
Me: I thought it was good.
BM: It was okay. I guess we should have spent more time on it. It was just okay, passable in law school. But you did what you could.
Me: Yeah, okay. Thanks.

Fast forward to today's order by the trial court which, I swear to you, takes portions of my brief as part of its opinion in denying the Defendant's JNOV.  

And, as expected, the criticism always runs plenty, but any ounce of acknowledgement? No a drop. 

It's at this point that I want to take the court's order, shove it in big man's face, and say-- "Yeah, you're welcome. And I quit."

God, what a way to go....