When faced with stress, I get slap happy and incoherent

I’m in the final throes of prepping for trial. And the world is caving in around me:

• I just found out that the court reporter didn’t transcribe the vital transcript (where the ghost of Clarence Darrow made an appearance) for tomorrow's jurisprudential battle. [I'm thinking of bluffing impeachment with a deposition transcript from a different case]
• In another case, seems that the new in-house term for the key witnesses that establish liability is “assclowns”. The assclowns are in a high stakes game of "stupidity" and, as such, our reliance on them could cost us the "case". [New strategy: character attack on the opposing litigant]
• Finally, a new client with a great case walked in the door today. The statute of limitations runs tomorrow. [It's not like I need time to craft a viable pleading...but still]

I may be up the crick without a piddle as (I am sitting at a blank legal pad and this blog post) as all motivation has left me. I am pondering if I am charging into a verdict for the other side the valley of death as one of 600.

The case argument is simple: The other a--hole hit us. Because I am a lawyer and not a pro se litigant on Judge Judy, I have to clean it up a bit. Thus my argument is simple, yet respectful: “Your Honor, The defendant ran the light, violated the right of way and hit the Plaintiff. And the a--hole should be made to pay.”

But that’s one sentence. And one sentence does not a case make.

It’s going to be a late night.