To you...who totally pissed me off

To my adversary:

Maybe you were absent the day they taught law in law school. When you cite a case, use the damn citation. And I know this is a very difficult concept, but the case should actually stand for the proposition that you're citing it for. I know that the Supreme Court recently issued a decision on federal preemption of claims against banks. But that doesn't mean that the facts of THAT case apply to the facts of OUR case... unless your deadbeat debtor client suddenly became a state or a governmental entity. No? I didn't think so. Stop wasting my damn time.

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To my client:

A little legal knowledge is a dangerous thing. I know you're a third year law student and all. But you have a lot to learn. Weekly status reports? Stuff doesn't happen weekly in a case like this. But I'll make you a deal. You pay my bills, I'll do whatever you want...no matter how silly I think it is. And I won't complain about it. To your face anyway.

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To the idiot who cut me off this morning:

Okay, moron! Listen up. My son was in the car. And if you trying to merge INTO my vehicle had caused him any damage, if a damn hair was out of place on his head, I would have taken you for every cent you're worth. Don't mess with me! And don't mess with my kid!

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To the hours police:

You're men. You don't know what it's like to be in my position and you don't even try. You got to be who and where you are because your wives stayed home. They sacrificed their jobs to stay home, raise your children and support your career.

There's nothing wrong with that. But being a stay at home mom is not for me. I love the law. I love my career. And I'm not willing to give that up just because I want to also have a family. Does it kick my ass some weeks? Absolutely.

You give "concessions" in the number of billables to people who are really involved with the bar or with politics. What about those of us with kids who struggle on a daily basis to find a balance between mom and attorney? Who feel an oppressive sense of guilt dropping our kids off first and picking them up last every day at daycare? Who come home some nights at the end of a long day, too tired to form a coherant sentence, feed the baby, play with him til bedtime and put in another 3 hours of work after everyone else in the house is passed out?

Yes, I know you're watching. I know I'm going to be in trouble this month. But I'm just too damn tired to bill 60 hours between now and the end of the week. No, it's not because I don't have the work. It's because you're working me to death. I need a break. Just one day. Just give me 24 hours where I don't have to respond to your emails, return client phone calls, write briefs, cover your desk and my own, chase after my son, clean up the house, make dinner and pretend like I can do it all, all day, every day with a big fat smile on my face. Give me that and I'll be recharged and ready to go next month.

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To my trainer:

You kicked my ass tonight.

I told you that I hated you. I told you that the squats and dips and lunges sucked. I cursed you for 44 out of our 45 minutes together. I can barely lift my arms right now. My legs are already feeling tomorrow's soreness. My sides ache from the effort of breathing so hard during the sprints you made me do.

And you know what else I have to say to you? I totally needed that. You're the best.

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Tomorrow's a new day. Hopefully one full of people who don't go out of their way to piss me off.