When you find you, come back to me.
written: 10:01 p.m. on Saturday, May. 08, 2010

It's Saturday night and instead of being out with the boyfriend, I'm stuck at home doing research.

To be sure, though, he has his own family plans; to be sure, too, I could've done this yesterday night or this afternoon but being the lazy shit that I am, I put it off until now. And I'm regretting it bitterly.

See, I want to get ALL work out of the way by today so that I can go out with boyfriend tomorrow in peace. Besides the research, I have three affidavits to read, one of which is a whopping 72 pages long. It's already 10.03 and I haven't finished the bloody research.

It's actually not a huge point. The answer probably can't be found anywhere. And the issue is actually quite interesting. But truth is, I keep thinking I haven't covered everything, despite googling many permutations of the search phrases and almost killing myself in the process. Worst of all? I DON'T HAVE A GODDAMN LAWNET PASSWORD. OH MY GOD.

I also can't access my work email from home so there's no way in hell I can email back my boss until like Monday. But I have to be at work at 8.45 on Monday to go for trial so um, yeah, dunno how I'm gonna "revert" by Monday.

ARGH BLAH BLAH THIS IS TERRIBLE OMG. AND I'M BEGINNING TO FREAK OUT ABOUT TAKING OVER THE ASSOCIATE'S FILES (FILESSSSS) WHEN SHE LEAVES. I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING. I'M GONNA DRONW IN THE FILES AND DIE.

If only my grades translated to actual working abilities. If only I woke up tomorrow and knew everything in the world that needs to be known in order to do my job properly. I'm happy pupillage ended (though I'm doing unofficial pupillage now, being stuck between post-pupillage and pre-call), but I missed the part where someone told me how to be an associate. I can't imagine writing emails to clients. I can't imagine talking to them. I can't imagine being responsible for deadlines, bloody PTCs, meetings, finishing up submissions and whatever else. Wow, I'd have no excuse not to stay back to work. That really sucks.

At this juncture I'm hoping that I DON'T get too many non-criminal files 'cause I can't handle the mundane nature of a civil trial. I'm okay doing some civil work to balance things out (since I get bored easily) but I don't want that to overwhelm that for which I signed up. If that were the case, I might as well have gone somewhere else with slightly, relatively better working hours. In fact, I'd gladly take better hours for less pay; too bad New Firm had what I wanted to do (still does).

Anyway, work has been okay so far. Went to court yesterday for a mitigation plea and I was very much amused by my boss. Saw a really tragic sight at the criminal justice centre (or whatever - it's where people go to ask questions) when a woman sat at a counter and cried and cried about how she couldn't appear in court because she had no one to look after her kids and how her lawyer told her that he/she wouldn't show up in court if she didn't show up. What a shitty lawyer. The woman was sobbing her eyes out, wailing to the officers about how there was no way she could've committed a crime; I stood back, watching, and left wishing there was something I could do.

Client meeting on Thursday was also very sad. I don't know what I can say and what I can't so I'm just not going to say anything. Suffice to say, though, that it reminded me of all the reasons I didn't want to do criminal law when I started pupillage. Of course, the absoluely insipid nature of commercial litigation blew my mind to smithereens and I had to make the switch. But I worry once more about getting disillusioned; about losing hope; about being emotionally affected by all these people that I can't save. Simultaneously I worry about the possibility that I might actually not care enough to put in more than what my capacity allows me to; sometimes I feel like that's true. But at the end of the day, when I'm home, I can't get these people out of my head. Having met the guy on Thursday and hearing his story, I don't see how I could possibly not care.

Having said all that, I also worry that the inevitable shitty hours would drain me of so much that I really stop caring. That would be - actually, that would be quite catastrophic. That is, for myself. I don't think I'm interested in losing myself even more, thank you.

*

On another note, and speaking of losing myself, I don't think I'm good at relationships. He becomes my whole life, the centre of my universe, at the expense of myself. Sometimes I don't recognise myself anymore; sometimes I see the person that I swore not to be ever again when I look into the mirror.

But I don't know any other way. Despite thinking I wouldn't feel the same passion that I did a few years ago when this relationship started, I've unwittingly allowed myself to feel not just as much, but even more. I've outdone myself this time. Sometimes I'm reduced to a wreck, ragged and torn, and I'm imploring him to piece me together when I should be the one to do it. Sometimes I genuinely don't know what to do without him - and this hurts me.

I could ask all the how questions, all the why's, the "what now"s; I could throw up possible solutions in my head, and suggest, in an altogether detached manner as though this were not my life, that it had to end. But I wouldn't. I won't. It's past the point of no return and there's nothing to say apart from "this is just the way it is" and "this is just how I am". Move on, then. And find a way to be better.

*

Tennis was absolutely fucking awesome for whole of 10 minutes. Then I took a break and absolutely collapsed after that.

I think I'm not going to be taking breaks so fast anymore. I was on fire for the first 10 minutes; after the break, I lost feeling in my limbs and I couldn't move my legs. Okay, I greatly exaggerate, but I was really sluggish - and it persisted for the rest of the session. NUS Wall Guy was hopeful that I could keep up the form I displayed in the first 10 minutes but I was absolutely right when I told him, "Yeah I'm going to die after the break."

Oh, how I wish I could remember those 10 minutes forever. The freshness helped me to focus and I hit a would've-been winner on the forehand side off a ball that sat nicely in the middle of the court. And I hit a whip forehand winner past NUS Wall Guy standing guard at the net. THAT was so special that I actually celebrated it by saying, "YAY!"

Still, my bad mood got the better of me towards the end. I played on the side of the court that faced the road, and whenever a taxi drove by, or worse, pulled up at the flight of stairs leading down to the courts, I'd take my eye off the ball and look at the taxi/passenger a couple of seconds too long. It screwed everything up. The same thing applied for EVERY. SINGLE. FUCKING. PERSON that walked by. And trust me, this isn't something I do on a regular basis. Nope, I did it this morning because I was hoping someone would show up.

Didn't happen. Nevermind, move on.

Actually, I really just wanted to forget for two hours so that I could enjoy this sport that I crazily love. But I couldn't even do that. I couldn't even fucking do that. Should I be mad at myself? Give me one good reason why I fucking shouldn't. So useless and pathetic.

*

Okay, I've wasted enough time on this. Time to get back to Imppssible Research. Blah.

before sunrise // before sunset


Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010