Yes.

I have six hours to bill tomorrow, and I'm done for the quarter. Ahhhh.

I ordered Mexican food for dinner, and have season 3 of Party of Five on DVD.

The cute guy in my building who I've never spoken more than "Hi" to knocked on my door and asked to borrow measuring cups...

Yes.

it's 12:25. I just got home. I need to drink at least two glasses of water before I go to bed. i have a 10 am deposition.

fuck.

Frus. Trate. D.

I have a conference on a case tomorrow that is the bane of my existence. Literally. I'd rather claw my eyes and dunk my head in acid than deal with the judge, clients, issues, attorney, witnesses, and bullshit that is this case.

I have to go to a somewhat swanky fundraiser tomorrow night where the majority of women will probably be dressed like baby hookers and, not that I would dress like that, but I don't have time to go home after work, change, and get to the damn thing in time for the free drinks.

I've been stressing out about, wait for it, the high school sophomore who I mentor and the fact that she hasn't been doing what she's supposed to be doing to get into a good summer academic program, i.e., get her father's tax returns to the appropriate financial aid people. If I get attitude from anyone about this, I'm this close to dropping out of the damn program. Like I need this.

Every bone in my body aches.

I have to bill 33 more hours between now and the end of the month, i.e. 5 days from now, in order to meet my quota to get my first quarterly bonus. I know that's doable - I just don't fucking want to. If shit doesn't HAVE to be done RIGHT NOW, it pisses me off that I have to work on the weekends. I don't think I'm cut our for lawyering like this. Can I just work for the Center for Constitutional Rights and write briefs all day and have long constitutional arguments with coworkers? No? Well, fuck you too.

One of my very best friends is leaving New York for a bigger better job in Chicago. I'm quite sad. Although, I will now have an excuse to get my butt to Chicago to visit her, and when I'm there, I'm totally calling on Grace, Namby, and any others of you who are in Chicago but I don't know it.

The fucking dry cleaners LOST my beautiful knit merino sweater that I've had since high school. They said they would give me $75 as payment. I don't remember how much I paid for that sweater back in 1998, but $75 isn't nearly enough to cover the sentimental value.

Sunday nights suck.

But long bubble baths are a wonderful thing.

The end.

Procrastination.

I ran six miles.

I scrubbed my bathroom.

I went to Gristedes to buy the special Swiffer Wet-Jet Spray for Hardwood Floors. And I swiffered.

I took Chloe out. Twice.

I'm doing my laundry.

All of my friends went home/out of town. Again, even the non-Easter-celebrating ones.

I really have to work. I really don't want to work. My father and his new semi-new wife who I've never met are coming to visit tomorrow. I'd like to just relax today so I have the strength to deal with that. I want a massage.

Ok, a few hours of work. I can do that.

-----------------------------------------

Um, I got distracted by A Walk to Remember on TNT. Shut up, you know you watch those movies when they're on TV. You have to, right? It's like a disease. Ok, back to work.

I will be the only person in my office today.

Everyone else is taking a long Easter weekend. Including the Jewish people. I don't have to be in court. I'm totally wearing my favorite ratty jeans, a hoodie, and Uggs.

And even if I bring work home, I'm leaving by 4.

I sobered up a long time ago.

I've just been busy.

So, my judge was a 90 year old slightly deaf guy who even a court officer told me "is crazy" when we broke for lunch the first day of trial. Awesome, right? He ended up precluding one of my witnesses who was supposed to testify regarding a BIG part of my overall theory. The judge was completely wrong on the law, and after a long argument on the record, he pretty much accused me of trial by ambush and he wouldn't allow it.

So that sucked. And totally freaked me out. But we kept going, and I recovered. My summation was kind of done on the fly because of the aforesaid hiccup, but the jury was still out all of 15 minutes before rendering a complete verdict in my favor. My heart was LITERALLY jumping out of my chest before the verdict was read. Afterward, the judge who had screwed me over winked at me. In hindsight, he probably knew the jury would go my way, and precluded my witness to either a) fuck with someone he knew was doing her first trial or b) assert his idiocracy on a somewhat basic point of law.

One of my firm's partners was in the courtroom when the jury came back, and although I was still in shock, I remember him giving me a hug afterward. Which is something I NEVER would have expected he was capable of doing, so it was pretty nice.

Our client was happy, and of course later told me she had been "a bit nervous" about it. Well, hell, so was I. But I proved myself at least on the first one. I'm sure the next one will be harder, but at least I'll have a base of confidence to go on.

In other news, a homeless woman on the subway today told me I was a "fucking fucking whore fucking slut" because I demurred when she asked for some change. Nice.

Not everyone wins her first trial.

But I did.

Details to follow when I regain my sobriety:)

It's not as bad as the night before the bar exam, but it still kinda sucks.

I'm revising my last analysis by a smidge after making certain other connections among the evidence, but I still feel...decent about it.

I'm having a glass of wine with dinner and I'm going to bed in one hour. I'm getting up at 6 to run, getting to court by 9 to meet my witnesses, and hopefully we'll start at 10.

Here we go.

A tip to future trial lawyers of America...

Always go visit the scene of the crime/accident/incident/lie/whatever before your trial starts.

You may discover something wondrous about your case...

Although it doesn't mean my nervousness has vanished, given this piece of information, if I don't win this thing I'm turning in my law license.

Spring Fucking Forward.

Of all the weekends for me to lose an hour...

I'm too tired to go to sleep.

Have you ever been too tired to do all of the stuff you need to do to get ready to go to bed?

Do the dishes
Take the dog out
Wash my face
Brush my teeth
Calm my mind enough to actually be able to sleep

I'm pretty sure just lying on the couch is a better plan.

Uh, John McCain probably looks young to you too.

So I picked a jury. I don't think I looked like a total idiot, and I'm generally happy with the people I got, so that's that. Also! I can confidently say that I did not violate the Constitution. Yay. Now of course the hard part begins. Opening statements are next Thursday, but I have a shitload to prepare before then.

I did get called out for looking young. By a, literally, 95 year old judge: "Well, hello missy! And how long have you been practicing law?"

Internal dialogue: do not roll your eyes, do NOT roll your eyes, just smile nicely and respond.

Thankfully, this wasn't the judge who will preside over the case. If he were I'd be afraid he'd give me a damn lollipop on our first day.

Jury selection = a slightly racist* chess game

Or at least this is how is how the process sounds as described to me. Even though I really only have a rudimentary understanding of what I'll be doing tomorrow, I'm not overwhelmingly nervous, which is good. I had a few moments of impending doom and dread earlier today, but they passed. Now I'm simply resigned to my fate. You know, kinda like a prisoner heading to the executioner.

Whoah, a rush of dizziness just came over me. Maybe because I've eaten nothing all day but a cup of dry cheerios, a yogurt, a luna bar, and a couple hershey's kisses. I meant to eat lunch, but had a fucking deposition in the middle of the day and never got around to it because every other minute was taken up with trial prep.

So now I'm scarfing down leftover pasta and contemplating whether I should make some more notes for tomorrow or just give up and go to sleep.


*Note to future practitioners: always have "another" basis for striking someone just in case you're faced with a Batson challenge. Ahh, what a fantastic system we have.

In like a lion.

I'm picking a jury on Wednesday.

I don't know how to pick a jury, but apparently I'll learn all about it tomorrow.

I have a pit in my stomach that is growing bigger by the minute.

But there's nothing I can do about it right now, so I'm going to have a glass of wine and watch Oprah's "The Big Give".

The title of this post has no relevance. I just can't believe it's March already.

UPDATE:

Yeah, that lasted all of ten cringe-inducing minutes. Wedding Crashers is on TBS. I feel better already.