Friday, 29 February 2008

The space where my brain should be hurts

I am at home, having crawled to the end of The Week That Threatened To Kill Me With All The Law And Whatnot. I hate the stress of appearing in court, which makes my career choice pretty poor, when you think about it. (Remind me to tell you about how I chose this career, by the way. It's an uplifting tale.) You may recall that I ran around at the beginning of this week trying to catch up on all the stuff that built up last week when I was in court.

Then, I spent Wednesday preparing for the case due to start on Thursday. I finished my preparations for day one at just after midnight on Wednesday/Thursday. Spent all day Thursday in court, concentrating furiously all day (which tires me out. Thinking is hard.) Worked until about midnight on Thursday again reviewing the first day's evidence, preparing for cross-examination and working on some draft legal submissions (that's the bit at the end of the evidence where we get to tell the judge what we think we have proved and he gets to laugh at us). Got up early this morning to get into the office and print out what I had done last night. So that I could, you know, read it. Some of it even made sense despite having been drafted in that period when your brain turns to cotton wool just before you lose consciousness and fall asleep with your face on your keyboard and wake up with "asdfghjkl;" imprinted on your cheek.

Day two in court went reasonably well, despite the other side changing their mind about their attitude to pretty much the whole case mid-evidence which called for a liberal application of red biro to the carefully crafted pages of cross-examination on which I had worked so hard. We won't get the decision for a wee while but the signs looked positive.

Then, I came home, got changed, picked up husband and children, deposited husband in town to meet a friend and took the bouncing offspring to an up-market burger joint for dinner. I was deaf to their pleas to go to McDonalds. I do have some standards. Full of stodge, we returned home and I have been vegetating pleasantly on the couch since. The wee G&T I had earlier has done its job so I am off for some well earned sleep. Tomorrow I may manage to post something coherent that does not read like a Janet and John book ("Then Janet went out. Then John went out. Then Janet banged her head off the door in frustrated boredom") Night all!


  1. Have Janet and John met Dick and Jane? They can all see Spot run.

  2. Sounds like an exhausting week. Hope tonight you are sleeping like a baby.