More Nuts than a Squirrel with OCD.

Last week was nuts.  N-V-T-S nuts.  (Bonus points to those who can identify the source of this quotation.)

 

I had a hearing.  With Ms. Whiny.  And she was a complete fucking bitchy ho-bag the entire week.  I will grant you, most attorneys display version of bitchy, whiny, asshole-icious, or otherwise sucktacular behavior during trials.  However, she was about to grate on my last fucking nerve. 

Everything that went wrong (which, in the overall scheme of things, was minor, i.e., a couple of computer issues, a document which mysteriously disappeared, etc.) was my fault.  While I know that part of my job is to be the whipping boy and take the shit, there’s a line.  There is especially a line when she says:

• “Now is a good time to ask questions.  Just ask KT or RH, because I’m in trial and I can’t answer them.”  (BITCH.  YOU ARE THE ONE WHO WANTS STUFF, AND IF YOU DON’T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT IT IS, IT’S NOT GONNA HAPPEN.)

• “You have to know every single piece of paper we produced.” (Which, actually, I did.  What I didn’t know was all of the shit that THEY produced.  Is knowing the basic contents and/or existence of 4000 pages not enough?  Evidently not.)

• “Don’t ever do [insert just about anything I tried to accomplish] that way again.”

The problem with this case is that it has been through 3 paralegals, both on our end and on our client’s end.  The documents had 86 different number designations (both ours and the opposing party’s).  It had been continued twice, and had been going on for almost 3 years.  Probably the attorney I was working for is the one who knew the file the best.  She’s one of those self-sufficient types, mostly.  The problem is, she will tell you that she doesn’t need anything and doesn’t need help and then send you 87 e-mails at quarter to five which she somehow thinks can be accomplished in 15 minutes.  Furthermore, a lot of the stuff she wants me to “find,” she knows where the fuck to find it, but it’s like it’s some kind of test as to whether I can read her fucking mind.  Of course, I don’t have that power.

 

(Parenthetical time:  last night, Lando and I watched this comedy special on HBO…Louie someone…and he did a bit about how he told someone they would probably die in a plane crash.  They called him back, all neurotic, and told him to take it back and that he would feel really bad if they did die.  He was all “I would gladly trade your life for knowledge of my powers.”  HAHAHAHA.  I would gladly trade Ms. Whiny’s diva status for knowledge of MY powers.)

 

Plus.  She annoys me on a personal level.  She’s about the same age I am.  She spends half her time being a bossy know-it-all, and the other half playing dumb and semi-flirting with the boss mens.  She talks in a derisive way about her husband, who she JUST FUCKING MARRIED, and from what I can tell, he’s gotta be a saint to even put up with her ass. 

 

At least I don’t have another case with her until October.

 

In other office goings on, Mr. Meeting sometimes boggles my mind with his silly-ass statements.  He’s been talking on the phone lately about various health problems, including prostate and colon issues.  I suppose he was talking to his wife, or a female friend, or something, and they were discussing colonoscopies.  (Keep in mind, I only heard HIS side of the conversation.  At least he didn’t have the shit on speakerphone.)  I can only surmise that the other party said something to the effect that she was having female issues in addition to bowel issues, and he comes out with “is your colon linked to your ovaries?”

 

That is stupid on so many levels, I cannot even comment. 

 

Also speaking of the office, I was kinda hoping for a snow day this week.  Yeah, we got to leave early Friday, but I wanted TODAY off too.  Most of our attorneys deal with the financial services industry…and the banks, stock exchanges, etc. are all closed today.  So are the courthouses.  This would have been an ideal unscheduled holiday.  But noooo, we have to come in.  It took almost an hour and a half to get enough of the ice and crap off my car this morning to be able to see to drive.  That INCLUDES letting the heater run for about 35-40 minutes before I even fucking went and tried to scrape it.  I needed an ice PICK, not a plastic scraper thingy. 

 

It was amusing, though…I went to the liquor store Friday afternoon before it got too ugly, and they were very low on inventory.  The owner was there working, and he was like “I had no idea it would be like this.”   The store is right next to Blockbuster.  Apparently, people would come in and tell him that they’d been in line there for hours because of the impending “ICE DEATH 2007.”   

 

Duh, Mr. Store Owner.  What the fuck else is there to do but watch movies, play games, and get drunk when you can’t leave the house? 

 

Hopefully, the fucktards will plow the streets some more, though.  My low riding car DOES NOT LIKE the mound between wheel ruts.  It will be a wonder if, after this week, I still have a muffler.  Maybe I should get it customized and get some monster truck tires put on it.   With spinner wheel covers.