I'm sure it must feel like this for anyone who takes a job in a professional field that requires some specialized training. Doctors must look at those tools like, seriously? You want me to do what with that? I mean, I know I trained for it, but really... I don't know...
Yesterday, I did something amazing.
I litigated. I handled a trial all by myself.
I went to law school not being sure I wanted to be a lawyer, but convinced that if I did, I was NEVER going to see the inside of a courtroom. I left my first summer convinced I could never work in a law firm, but terrified to be in a courtroom. And now, I am addicted. I am going to follow my supervising attorney around the courtroom tomorrow like a puppy dog looking for an ear scratch, looking for a chance to cross examine, please just one little bit!
I just never knew I could do it until I did it. I never knew it was for me until I tried it. I never knew I would love it, need it, until I tasted it.
I am the shy one, I sit in the back, I don't speak in class, and when the professor calls my name, my face turns as red as a tomato. Yet, I did it. With flying colors.
I've been away for only a few days, but somehow it felt like far too long.
I left on Saturday morning, early, to go back to Buffalo for the bridal shower. I did the family reunion, the going out, the shower, the packing, the long discussions about choices.
I came back on Monday morning.
And I realized, as I was sitting next to Vor in the car, coming home from the airport, that he is so much more than friend, husband, lover, playmate, counterpoint. He is my filter, he is my sounding board, my sense of humor, my hankie, my source of all that is good and right, and my home. Not that life is perfect, but that the imperfections help me, help us, grow, and they are wonderful in their own way.
It might be ridiculous that I'm not telling him this, while he sits here giving Jekyll the dog a good petting, but...
I love you. Come back and read this any time you want.
Okay, fine. It was a heavy duty stapler, stapled through easily 150 pages of a legal memo/report for the court. And once I stapled it, I realized that the other four copies did not have Exhibit J, because for some reason, the copy machine decided it wanted to own my soul.
I traipsed back to the copier, stapled original in hand, and grabbed the staple remover so that I could get Exhibit J. Just for reference, the exhibits went up to "O". Also for reference, I am not what you might call a "copy bitch." We all do our own copying, faxing, and typing here--we have no paralegals, we are a small not-for-profit organization. Ahem. Just to clarify.
The staple refused to budge. I mean, I could literally hear it say, "Yeah. Make me." I finally had to get scissors to pry it apart, and then slide the pages painstakingly off, one by one. It took almost an hour to assemble some damn copies, not mention the small little outburst that had one of my supervising attorneys checking in on me and looking very concerned.
Well, they were concerned until they saw the stapler, at which point, they slid carefully away.
I'm pretty sure that means they lost to the stapler at some point too.
I would like to take this moment to point out that my wedding is only 40 days away, not counting today. That my dear readers, is not very long indeed.
I am a total slacker, and I need to get some things done. But somehow... I have just stopped caring.
All I want to do is marry Vor and be done with this process.
At first, we wanted a wedding that was small, manageable, and intimate. Like the size of a potted plant. Controllable. Then we discovered the wedding HAD to be in Buffalo. That made the wedding more like one of those weeds that grows uncontrollably until you kill it.
Did we kill it? Nope. We fed the beast.
It's now more like a giant leafy tree, due to what we term "cronie additions," aka, friends of our parents that we never knew, let alone knew existed. I wanted to be married outside, somewhere in the mountains, in a simple ceremony with maybe a barbecue lunch. I think Vor likes that idea too. Now, we're in a church with the formal reception.
I know I probably sound ridiculous and ungrateful, but I'm not. It will be wonderful to have all my family and most my friends (we had to finally draw the line before the tree became a redwood tree). It will be memorable, and most importantly, we will be married at the end of it.
I wanted a small potted plant, and I got a tree. Oh well. They're both still pretty.
Okay, fine, you can email me at graceandpressure [at] yahoo [dot] com. Don't all flood me with emails at once, you know. If you're emailing about craniosynostosis, put it in the subject, and I'll respond quicker. Deal? Deal.