Today, however, I cleaned out my closet. . .

Wow, hello.  I have to tell you, I feel like I've been underground for the past two weeks, like a little sad mole who squints at daylight and toils away underground, furiously digging deeper in its tunnel.   

So, work.  It kicks my ass occasionally.  This case, at least, is awfully fun (topic-wise). It hit full stride in the beginning of April, and I've spent the vast majority of all my days and weekends glued to the computer, drafting, fielding endless questions from two partners -- or sequestered away in a conference room with the team (all four of us), bickering over argument support and fine-tuning our papers, taking the red pen to paper again and again and again.  It's honestly amazing to review the difference between the initial draft I send off into the world and the final one that gets filed, a product of days spent working over word by word.  The rare original phrase survives, though the skeleton is largely intact. The time commitment utterly, totally, sucks, but the feeling of seeing one your sentences from a filing show up in the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal is indescribably surreal. 

Nonetheless, I am so happy to be on the other side.  DK is so happy that I'm on the other side. That's the hardest part, by far.  Coming home, again, at two in the morning, stopping to slip off my shoes in the hallway so the clack of heels won't wake up the sleeping sweet lump in the bedroom.  The cat, blearily wanders out to glare curiously at me while I take off my coat.  I finally slide into bed, touch DK's back, whisper "I'm home" after he startles awake.  Kiss the back of his head, breathing in his soapy smell, and fall asleep with my hand on his back, an reassurance to myself of a connection.  I think, "Just one more week," and fall asleep thinking of to-do lists and circuitous worries. 

It all finally finished on Thursday, when two big whammies came due (a filing and, in another case, a big deposition). I symbolically celebrated by chopping off my hair (CHOP) in a long-needed cut.  

And this weekend has been perfect.  Quiet and just the two of us and a shockingly lovely New York.  We started off Saturday early, with a big cup of tea and quick read, then worked out at side-by-side treadmills with a hard, punishing run.  I fussed at my hair, worried it was too short, too boy, but DK ruffled my head of little curls and told me to stop being dumb. The weather was amazing, bright sunshine, 70s, and we held hands walking up to the Morgan Library, to look at the Vasari (el al) drawings.  Then walked across town to one of our favorite galleries to look at a show of an artist I really like.  I've thought about a particular drawing of hers for a year and we went into the back to see it again – and took the plunge!  I think of it as Miss Havisham's wedding cake.

Then we stopped by Union Square to buy some flowering cherry branches and sunchokes and little cipollini onions.  And finished the day watching backed-up Top Chef episodes and sucking down slurpy Thai noodles. 

Bliss. 

Not a bad way to return back to the world.  I missed it. 

Comments

[Adele Richards]

Your job boggles my mind....but then my main grid for working in law is Ally McBeal. Doesn't sound like you get a lot of time to dance in the unisex bathroom.

Could we see the new hair please?

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