No, not daunting. (Ok, just a little)

I am working on a seven-figure case dealing with a factset that I just do not understand.

I just don’t get the nuances of the facts, I mean I understand why we are suing, I understand the amount of money at issue, but I don’t understand why we win. Or how we can make a case. To add to this fun, I have a horrendous pain in the ass pretentious big law opposing counsel to deal with.

My task is simple: spew foundationless tripe that turns itself into a pre-trial settlement demand.

My problem is complex: I don’t even know how to start bullshitting on this topic.

My motivation is: the court threaten sanctions if I don’t make the deadline.

Oy. Vey.

I am so looking forward to Thursday

It’s never a good thing when the hectic pace starts before 7am.

A series of e-mails started going back and forth with an East Coast Biglaw Partner co-counsel on a matter that got dropped in my lap at quitting time yesterday. The long end of the short of it (15 or so emails, 8 calls, multiple profanity laden tirades directed at my helpless laptop later and 5 hours later), I got done what needed to get done. Now, I’ve got a date with a federal judge. It’ll be fun. Or it could be an unmitigated disaster. It could go either way.

That hectic rush was replaced with my afternoon dispositive motion argument. The highlight: “Counsel, I really liked your brief in opposition to Defendant’s motion” Thanks, your Honor. “I’m going to grant the Motion to Dismiss.”

The day in sum: rush, rush, rush, rush, get a judicial compliment, promptly lose, go back to the office, work late to catch up on the minutia.

Time to mash my face into the panic button

I have a statute of limitations that runs tomorrow.

I have a client that doesn't remember who hit him. Or where he was hit exactly. Or if it was the local cops, the sheriff or the state police that responded.

So. I wait until the local cops, sheriff, and state police records call me back. And let me know if I am proper fucked.