Right. Yesterday. Couldn’t have sucked more if it had a hose and a vacuum attached to it.
When things start getting annoying just after 4 a.m., you KNOW the day ain’t going to go well. That’s when the dog barked to be let out, and that is when I broke one of my most sacred commandments: don’t check email between 8 p.m. and 8 a.m. But the phone was glowing, and glowering at me with an 8 next to the mail icon, and I relented. Most were innocuous: this one wasn’t:
Remember That Thing I Did the day before? Successfully (“more or less,” I said here), with no appearance, objection or claim from the biggest opponent and who didn’t file by the time of the 2:00 hearing, coincidentally scheduled for the last day to file claims? Long as they don’t do something incredibly stupid like file just before midnight on the final day, it’ll be easy, I thought (and told the court).
So of course, there it was. Filed by a Long Island foreclosure shop at 9:25 at night on the last possible day. Curse electronic filing; in the old days, when the clerk closed at 5, claims couldn’t be filed, but now idiots have been enabled and this one came through.
It’s not fatal, or even necessarily bad. But it did produce a call from the court yesterday- instead of me being able to file a simple document resolving the claim the way we proposed, I now have to object to what they did file- actually a shorter document, but a longer time frame. Which sucks.
The dog eventually came in, and I eventually got back to sleep, in time for the Hoovering to continue.
The text came just as I was on the 90, heading for a 9:30 court appearance with no turning back:
Your tie is on the kitchen island.
Of course it was. Because I’d left it there to grab the coffee I desperately needed to function after the restus interruptus of the email, and I'd brought in the recycling tote with my other hand, so, yeah. Time for a bold fashion statement.
(These days, I go tie-commando all the time unless I have court, and I’ve sailed through some quick hearings without when I’ve forgotten once. Maybe twice. Okay, I forget how many times.)
Fortunately, this inspired me to call my opponent who I’d been working on a settlement with, and he agreed to adjourn. For most of my drive, I was stressed by (a) not knowing if he’d gotten through, (b) when it would be adjourned to, and (c) whether it would conflict with an adjournment of something else which someone else was calling me about at that very moment. Not until 9:28 a.m. did I get confirmation; it was postponed, to a date I could cover, and that didn't conflict. So things started going right!
That settlement was very time-sensitive and required a client, marginally reliable on the best of days and just coming off surgery, to move his fanny and get me signatures and funds in time to overnight things. I worked on various and sundry while waiting for my last appointment of the day to arrive in Rochester at 3:30. Still no client to sign and pay. Also, a third client, supposedly wanting a walk-in to see me. Hell, I juggled two at the same time on Monday, so why not a third?
He never showed. But Sign Here Guy showed up just as Scheduled Appointment Guy was settling in. Again, I got them where they needed to get, the overnight was supposedly delivered on time, and life was good.
As I said, briefly.
Of course I’m anal enough to have needed to come back to my Buffalo office to see what arrived in my absence. I had the Harrison Ford bad feeling about this even before arriving, and the Force was strong with that. For in my tray was nothing good, and one unexpected thing: a rejection of papers I filed weeks ago, on spurious grounds. Or so I thought: turns out there was a basis for them doing it. And the client for that is the one I need to meet and shepherd through a court hearing today, with more than a little nervousness.
Somehow I got sleep despite the anxiety over it; even better, as I post this, I am almost certain that the problem’s been fixed. I left home a little early today, leaving Eleanor to cheer me up by sending this view of the peanut gallery just after I left, with a reassuring note:
I just hope all hell didn't break loose at 9:25;)