Today, I arranged for the service of a complaint. Technically, it was a third-party complaint contained in a responsive pleading. This was the first time I had to serve someone with a lawsuit and, the whole thing made me uncomfortable. We're months from the statute of limitations but, for some reason, I was so paranoid about making a mistake. I checked (and re-checked and checked again) the service of process statutes and civil rules to make sure I was complying with everything. What should have taken me ten minutes turned into an arduous affair.
As much as I love being an attorney, there are so many times that practicing law makes me uncomfortable. "Really? Someone's putting ME in charge of their case? Don't they know that I can't even make my bed in the mornings, that I wear bright berry-colored rainboots, and occassionally fantasize about being a Ninja Turtle?"
By the way, what would you say if you caught your attorney wearing these:
Target was out of black and I needed a way to stay dry during my walk-heavy commute. Confession: I've actually grown to like them!
Sometimes I'm amazed at the extreme differences in my two lives: professional and personal. I can responsibly manage cases worth thousand (or more) of dollars. But I can barely manage my own stuff. I can (for the most part) follow procedures, create litigation checklists, and keep files organized at work. But at home, my crap is everywhere and it's a scary thing each time I cook a meal. I dress on the more conservative side at work (hose, black tights, tucked-in shirts, more skirts than pants) but at home, I'm super relaxed (flannel! yoga pants!). I simple exercise the "smell" test before putting something on. Clearly, this is evidence that I am two different people.
One reason, I couldn't practice law in a small town: I'd be constantly afraid of running into clients at the grocery store while rocking dirty yoga pants, a ratty sweatshirt, and bird's nest hair.