Trials are so exhilarating, yet so frustrating. We are ready to go, we have spent so much time and effort sweetening up our file, building up the anticipation and nervousness on the other side. We are ready and willing. Baited breath – freshly minted, but baited. And the court shuts us down. The Judge swings open the door and tells us to go home. So we throw our stuff back into the boxes, straighten our suits and go home with heads hung. It is much like blue balls.
All week the Pantyhose Alert Level has hovered between Lemon Yellow and Pumpkin. Hoping, anticipating a rise in the alert level, I wore comfortable clothing and shoes for the first half of the week. Building up for the anticipation of pain and discomfort from heels and hose. This morning, I donned a sensible black suit with heels. The alert level was clearly Pumpkin.
We had a conference call with the Court and all attorneys this morning. One minute, we are at Level Pumpkin. Quickly, it shoots to Green Apple and suddenly, with just a word, it shoots clear up to Candy Apple Red.
Wish me and my poor squeezed parts luck. We are now, officially, engaged at Candy Apple Red, imminent trial alert.
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2 comments:
Oh boy do I remember those days. Now I'm in corporate law and out of litigation.
I hated when our case was somewhere around number 6 on a 2 week trial calendar because you never knew if you'd get called or not. Doing trial prep with my boss was truly a nightmare - we'd start prepping 2 or 3 months ahead of time and she'd change everything constantly until the moment of trial.
The ones I really hated are when we'd work every weekend for 2 months getting ready for a trial and the clients would settle in the courtroom just before they started voir dire. Uhm, dumbasses do you realize how much you just spent on attorney fees getting ready for trial for nothing?
Hang in there!
Good luck sweetie.
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