This morning I had an early hearing scheduled. And because I absolutely hate going to sleep (I hate it!), I could not get my butt to bed before midnight last night. "Eh, no biggy," I thought. I could still manage 5 hours of sleep. Sadly, that is not a rare thing for me. And everthing would have been fine except for a horrible sore throat which woke me up every half hour to the sensation of a thousand gerbils clawing their way out from my insides.
And then the real pleasure began. Jacob woke up with a night terror at 1 a.m. I bounded straight out of bed and nipped his crying in the bud before Ryan woke up. Jacob, I can handle. Even at one in the morning. But when The Baby wakes up, all bets are off. Ryan's waking up is usually accompanied by thirty minutes of screaming before I ultimately give in and bring him into bed with me where he will flop like a convulsing fish. With all his weight, he will throw himself in all directions across both my bed and my body. His head will repeatedly soar through the air, his tiny body following suit like the tail of a submissive badmitten ball, before hitting its target (usually my hip bone, or face).
Contrarty to what you may think, I do NOT enjoy playing badmitten with a baby's cement-like noggin at one in the morning.
So I carefully shushed Jacob back to bed and then tossed and turned in my own bed as the imaginary gerbils continued their mission to carve out my throat. I finally dozed back to sleep after god knows how long. Unfortunately, my night time tragedy did not end there. At precisely 4 a.m., my restless slumber was disturbed by a wail. A really long and loud wail. Oh. Shit. This time it was The Baby.
I did not go back to sleep. And with that, my 5 hours of precious sleep had diminished into 2.5 hours. It was not going to be a fabulous day.
Somehow, SOMEHOW, I left my house at 6 a.m. and was the absolute LAST car to make it onto the ferry. And, in rare fashion, I arrived at the court house early for my hearing. I'm nearing the perfect stage of my early career in which going to court is no longer scary but it is still new enough of an experience that it is fun. Mostly, I just like to play dress up in my suit, heels, and my favorite pearls. I also like to watch other people present oral arguments and fall in and out of favor with the judges and their unique little quirks and pet-peeves.
I practiced my oral argument over and over in my head the entire drive to the court house. By the time I parked my car, my argument was flawless and I was ready to attack. I don't have a speech impediment by any means but when I have to make public speeches or am put on the spot, I have an incredible knack for stumbling ferociously over my words. I lose my ability to pronounce simple words and half of my vocabulary falls off a cliff in my brain never to be remembered again. So before every public speech or oral argument, I absolutely have to rehearse each sentence over and over and over until each word sounds perfect in my mind and can not be forgotten.
Somehow, despite all the practicing, when I stand before the judge, I start really strong but my argument fizzles into a little puff about halfway through. I lose my confidence and the words start to jumble around in my brain once again. At this point, I usually stop myself and allow the opposing counsel to step in. Today was no different. I started strong and persuasive and then the fabric of my argument began to unravel as my words jumbled. I became so self conscious of my shortcomings that I lost steam and trailed off quietly into awkward silence.
It is so frustrating! I really need stronger closing statement. I know that the only way to improve this is by practice. Hopefully, I can add several more court appearances under my belt before the year is up. But at least I'm no longer showing up to court year sweating through my clothes, my heart thumping loudly, and my hands shaking uncontrollably. At least I'm decently presentable now and can mostly fake an appearance of ease and control.
The day kind of went downhill after I won my motion. My sore throat got so bad that I was almost completely unable to talk for the second half of the day. My husband was thrilled when I texted him this. Drinking and eating felt like swallowing tiny toothpicks. When I got off work, I went straight to Urgent Care. And, although I felt silly for wasting everyone time only to discover I do not have strep, I was very happy to bring some home cough syrup laced with codeine. Girl's best friend.
Considering that I managed the whole crazy day on only 2.5 hours of sleep, I would like someone to award me with a medal. Any medal will do, preferably large and shiny. I shall be waiting patiently.