Scared.

Tomorrow, for the second time since I've been at my new job, I have to go to the building where the firm I clerked at during law school is. Anyone who has been reading for a substantial period of time knows that this exponentially raises the risk that I run into [Hours], which is one of my greatest dreads in life.

The first time I had to go through a rather rigorous security check-which I was not prepared to pass (who knew you cannot take iPods, mirrors, and camera phones into quasi-Court buildings; when you can take them into actual Court buildings?) and I ended up calling an associate I used to work with to come pick up my "contraband" from me so I could make through security. Which meant later I had to actually go up to [Bill, More, and Hours] and run the risk of having to take an elevator with [Hours] or seeing him in the lobby of the office.

At least tomorrow I will be prepared and the worst case scenario I run into him in the lobby of the building (which actually, the way that scene is playing out in my head with me literally running into him is rather frightening).

The worst part is that I do not know what I would do if I ran into him. He ignored me the last 5 months I worked in the office and pretended I didn't exist when I passed him in the hallway after I refused to tolerate his abuse any further. On one occasion he went so far as to fake a cell phone call when he was going to lunch with 3 other partners (all of whom were standing right there) in an attempt to not get into an elevator I was already on-which backfired when the partners told him to just get on and he was forced to have a fake conversation for the next 27 floors. In all probability he would ignore me, but on the off chance that he attempts to engage in conversation with me I'd like to come off as the articulate and fabulous person that I am.

The only reason I am scared he'd talk to me is that recently he saw my dad downtown and he not only waived but he made a point of crossing the street to say hello. Despite the fact that my father hates him, and [Hours] knows he hates him, due to the abuse I was forced to endure.

Maybe I should just be pre-emptively uber nice to him if I see him. Since I know it would make him extraordinarily uncomfortable to talk to me.

"I know you don't smoke weed, I know this; but I'm gonna get you high today, 'cause it's Friday; you ain't got no job, and you ain't got shit to do."

I woke up thinking it was Friday. Which meant it was my last day at Bill, More and Hours. Needless to say, when I opened Outlook and it corrected me I was a little heartbroken.

"If I could escape..."

Earlier today I broke a vase. It wasn't some heirloom or anything important. It was just a foot tall, 4'' square, clear glass vase. The flowers that came it in were of the "congratulations on being done with law school classes" variety. I had intended to plant bamboo in it. Thinking it would be a nice reminder of getting the flowers as well as my "accomplishment." I washed it out and went to dry it, at which point it tipped over and shattered.

Normally I'd just shrug, clean up the glass and that would be it. But not today. Not while I'm all hormonal; stressed with finals; terrified of bar study, unemployment, and student loan payments. First the tears welled up, then for whatever reason, I started sobbing. The entire thing was such a metaphor for my entire law school career. Just because you have the best of intentions doesn't mean it's not going to come crashing down on you in some bizarre way you never expected and shatter you into 1000 pieces.

Being that I was upset I decided that taking care of my barloan paperwork (since I've been procrastinating on that in avoidance of "making it all real") would be a better idea than trying to study or work on the 5-Day Take Home from Hell. Long story short, I'm rather sure my identity has been stolen. I was going through a lender I've never so much as tried to use-yet they have my social security number as already in use. Then I tried to have my username and password sent to me, which required I enter my email address. I entered every email address I've ever used and none were recognized. Of course I can't do anything about this until tomorrow morning, as if I'll get anything done between now and then.

The thing is, I can't imagine what idiot would ever want to be me. If someone really wants to deal with working nearly full time; taking 5 classes; spending 2 hours a day communting; coping with grandparents who have Alzheimers, Lung Cancer, and M.S.; finals; BarBri; PMBR; barloans; student loans and whatever else might come up all while attempting to have perfect hair and making sure their T-Zone doesn't get oily they can. I just hope they realize my credit wasn't that great to begin with so the joke is on them.

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

I would but first of all let me say,
I must apologize for acting, stinking, treating you this way,
Cause I've been acting like sour milk fell on the floor,
It's your fault you didn't shut the refridgerator,
Maybe that's the reason I've been acting so cold.

Desperate Housewife

Today I caught my pants on a filing cabinet at work. Apparently, they are too big. I had noticed they'd been sitting low but didn't realize how bad it was until they ripped down the seam as I attempted to walk away from said filing cabinet without realizing I was stuck in it. Of course despite having a comfort drawer I was without a needle and thread. So I fixed them the only way I could think of. I snuck my stapler into the ladies room and stapled them (no...the staples didn't show).

To make up for my extremely domestic behavior of the morning I made Chicken Piccata, garlic butter pasta and steamed asparagus for dinner so I could feel a bit better about my femininity. After all, I need to keep up appearances if I ever expect emcpan to let me be her wife.

Unemployed.

Or at least rid of [Hours].

Stellar Judgment...

Good Idea: Drinking Long Beach Iced Teas at the Firm Christmas party.
Better Idea: Running the table on [Hours] in a pool game.
Best Idea: Going ice skating with the associates after the party.

I've Been Working for [Hours] for WAY too Long.

I just finished watching The Devil Wears Prada. How sick is it that I thought Andrea (Anna Hathaway's character) was whiney and didn't think Miranda (the "evil" boss played by Meryl Streep) was that bad?

"I think the money should be spent on something the whole town can be proud of."

I think my favorite part about working in the city are the times when I get to ride The Simpson's Monorail The People Mover.

Highlight of the Weak

[Hours] standing around with all the young female attorney's gossiping about the Britney/Fed-Ex split.

I'll Take It.

In a vain attempt to prove he isn't pure evil [Hours] got me a gift certificate for a massage as a thank you. The masseuse told me one thing I knew, and one thing I didn't. Apparently, I'm one of the most tense people she'd ever worked on. I also have the nicest skin of anyone she'd ever worked on.

More Apathy.

Today I was sitting around talking to a friend about the current state of the law in the field we practice, the upcoming election, and life in general.

There was an older gentleman sitting near us, who once my friend left questioned where I worked based on what we had been talking about.

Of course he knew [Hours], and proceeded to say how he's "a pretty nice guy" and then kinda get a look on his face which seemed to communicate "is he still a complete ass?"

I just gave him a smile and said "yeah he's a nice guy, and it's never boring."

Apathy.

Have I been posting less? I feel I've been posting less. Lucky for you I'm not about to embark on a P.E.D.E. like The Hot Librarian. Nobody wants that.

The long and the short. School sucks. I have a Summary Disposition Motion (and Brief in Support) due Wednesday which I've barely worked on. I realized today that it was going to be a A LOT more work than my previous estimates had led me to believe. Normally I'd just not work tomorrow, but [Hours] has a presentation he's giving this weekend (read: I do all the research, create the powerpoint and the handouts for the presentation and he gets to copyright it and put it on his resume) and he's made me swear on my life that I'd be in tomorrow.

Currently [Hours] and I are in an epic power struggle. I refused to do some work which I was morally against and ever since then he's been on a quest to teach me that "the only thing that is important in my life is what comes out of his mouth." Therefore I've been on a quest to be as defiant as I possibly can be while still giving him the illusion that I'm submitting to him in order to keep the workplace environment less hostile. It's a very healthy relationship we're cultivating.

Plus I'm realizing that I can't leave my job since:

1. I'd lose my bonus, which would be sad. Stupid me for saving all my monthly bonuses for meeting my hours until the end of the year.
2. I'm a 3L who is graduating in May. Nobody will want to hire me.

I wish I had stuff to write about, but in reality school is the same (law students are still socially inept, nothing is going to change there) and work has gotten to a point where if I blogged about what was happening it would be very clear it was me since [Hours] has gotten so out of hand. La Di Da.

Frigid

Bill, More, and Hours has been freezing, being that it's snowing outside and all. I was just informed by a girl in my class who works in the same building that the management is refusing to turn the heat on until "November" (no word on what time).

I'm so going to end up stealing a secretaries sweater.

Parking Garage

Hours: I thought you drove a Prius or some earth friendly crap like that.

Me: I used to.

Hours: And now you drive this?

Me: Yeah. I was sick of driving a little car in the snow and barely being able to get out of my driveway.

Hours: I hope you know that's a chick car.

Me: Well; first off, I am a chick; second, you drive a "truck" which is basically the same; and third, if anything mine is MORE manly since yours doesn't allow you to choose when it goes into 4-Wheel Drive like mine does.

Hours: Mine's black, that means it's inherently NOT a chick car. Plus I'm about to buy [dream car].

Me: Relying on color to prove you don't have a chick car really is an interesting approach. Plus you're getting your dream car used.

Hours: Keep it up and I might be able to afford a new one once I won't have to pay you.

Me: That logic is worse than "my car isn't a chick car since it's black," you'd make less without me around. Face it, you're stuck with me now that [ASSociate] is gone.

Hours: I know.

The Calm Before the Storm

[Hours] has been being extremely nice lately. Bringing lunches and ice cream, joking around, understanding of my school schedule, no yelling, no throwing inanimate objects. Either he is being heavily medicated or he's going to throw a stapler at myself, an associate, or our secretary in the near future.

"It's Hard Out Here for a Pimp."

[ASSociate] was officially fired today, however he has to come in for the next 2 weeks and be a waste of space. In other words, nothing has changed yet. While clearly this is a positive in the grand scheme of things it does put a rather large dent in my material around here. However, this does free things up so I can post some of his uber idiotic things which I was afraid to post before. Like how he was impeached as Commissioner of his fantasy football league because he "allegedly" used his powers for evil and changed things around since apparently the Commissioner gets everyones password. He doesn't deny said activities went on, he just puts them all on his brother. In other words, his family is shady too.

Rumor has it the "hellhole" I refer to as "school" has finally put wireless in the classrooms. So at least we can all look forward to me live blogging labor law.

Karma

Now that [Hours] knows I'm a decent golfer I'm being forced I've been invited to play in some huge golf outing hosted by our biggest client. I'm sure it's a scramble. I hate scrambles. All they amount to is the one time a year when a bunch of hacks can say they shot par.

The Morning After.

Like any abusive person today [Hours] tried to win me over today after his behavior yesterday. He had me do a pre-dep¹ (which he never does) and brought me ice cream (which I refused).

He also invited me golfing tomorrow. We have been golfing a couple times now so I'm fairly certain it's not just so he can kill me and hide the body. Generally when we play I let him win; I've been playing since I was 7, I was the #1 spot on my high school team, and I worked for parks and for 6 years where I got free golf anytime I wanted; and well, he's just a shitty golfer. The only remaining question is do I make him feel a little better and play from the women's tees, or do I embarrass the hell out of him and play from the men's tees?

¹While he was stuck in the dep I took it as an opportunity to look for jobs.

Stressed.

Pondering the chances of ever getting another job ever if I were to not only not accept an offer from my firm but also quit working effective nearly immediately. I think [Hours] has finally pushed me a too far. I realized I'm like a battered wife who is always making excuses for their abuser and I am not sure I can keep it up anymore.

"I'm Weird Man..."

If anyone has been paying attention, I'm taking the MPRE soon, as in Friday. For all you non-law types that would be the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam. Exam, as in test. Of course I haven't really studied unless sitting passively in a BarBri class and filling in blanks, downloading BarBri Exam Soft, and reading 18 pages of 148 page outline counts as "studying."

The thing is, my lack of studying hasn't really scared me yet. They say "nobody" fails the MPRE, unless they don't study at all. I still have over 48 hours to study. Oceans. The reason I'm worried about passing is that I cut my hair. Yes, it always comes down to my hair, doesn't it dear readers? If I still allowed comments I'm sure I'd be getting called a vampant whore who is obsessed with her hair and has nothing else to think about. But, I digress.

When I started law school my hair was short (not THAT short, but short), at that time I made some weird promise to myself which I never expected to keep-but then I sorta did for awhile so I figured I'd keep going. The promise was that I would not cut my hair until I passed the bar. My joke at the time being that it'd be down to my ass before I could cut it. What I didn't account for was the fact that my hair grows at ridiculously fast rates, as in an 1 and 1/2 inches in 2 months. I kid you not, I can tell based on the rate of "re-growth."

So on Monday, the "triple digit heat" (as the news has been calling it) and 157% humidity finally produced enough delirium for me to cut my hair off-into a fabulously adorable cut. Bringing the total amount cut off my hair in the last 2 months (in 2 hair cuts) up to nearly 8 inches.

The repercussions are bound to be severe. See, I'd been growing it out to give to kids with cancer. Except, I found out they don't want my hair. Because apparently "bleach" is used on mine...Who knew? I thought "bleach" was only used on people who my great-grandfather would refer to as "weisse kopfe" (yes I know the "o" in "kopfe" needs an umlaute and that techically the "ss" should be that weird looking German letter that looks like a "B" but is really 2 s's).

So not only were children with cancer deprived of getting my hair by the evil standards forced upon them by the adults who run the organization (because trust me, kids with cancer want my hair) when I was just 2 inches shy of having it long enough to donate, but I broke a promise to myself. During the week which I take the first portion of the Bar Exam.

I think it's clear that if I fail the MPRE, which "nobody fails" it's a result of me breaking my promise to myself and my neglect of children with cancer. Couldn't be that it's 48 hours before and I've barely studied. Could.Not.Be.