I slept through my alarm this morning. It was ok, I had no court schedule and I was going to be the only attorney in the office today. It wasn’t going to matter that I wasn’t going to have time to drink my morning coffee or have a bowl of cereal before I flew out the door. I could do my morning routine at the office.
I was in the process of performing the “get out of the shower, dry off, avoid tripping on the dog while checking my email” routine when I discovered that not only did I have an email informing me about a court hearing that I knew nothing about in a case that my firm had stopped caring about. Instead of unshaven with jeans and a shirt, it became suit & tie with day old stubble friction burn.
This day had taken an abrupt nosedive into Mondayishdom.
I sat in court with a hope that my proposed plan of action would stay my contempt citation. It did. But it didn’t stay the rest of my morning dealing with the devil’s trifecta: (1) a humorless paralegal (who might have been a robot), (2) an intellectually lackluster subpoena service and (3) the client who begins to cry 1.3 sentences into the conversation.
On my todo list still remains: (1) argue with the client who refuses to sign his settlement release, (2) stalk the defense counsel who won’t call me back and (3) listen politely to people who are trying to scam the system.
It’s not that I need a reason to drink. But it’s good to know I have a few stored up just in case.