Slip Day

I've been reasonably good about controlling portions and trying to do at least moderate physical exercise pretty much every day. Social events being what they are I've not done so well at reducing alcohol intake, but that hardly seems like something to complain about.

Maybe it had something to do with being startled awake by nightmares, which feels vaguely childish and humiliating. I don't remember what was so scary but apparently I cried out in my sleep loudly enough to wake up both dogs and both cats, and I had absolutely no desire to go back to sleep afterwards even though it was quarter after four in the morning.

Or, it might have had something to do with waiting around for two and a half hours to deal with an utterly meritless ex parte this morning by a pro per defendant -- who read his fourteen-page brief out loud as his oral argument, obviously not even understanding what he was saying.

And, it didn't help knowing that this dude is so rock stupid he's going to follow through on his threat to sue me despite having been sanctioned by the Court for the frivolity of his antics. Well, he'll find that is going to work out very badly for him if he does it. CCP § 425.16 -- I've never lost a motion yet, and I've never been awarded less than $20,000 in fees paid by my opponents for the privilege of having sued my client and lose right out of the starting gate.

Maybe it was waiting around for two hours while the understaffed file room in the courthouse retrieved documents from a new case for me on another matter. And missing lunch while I was doing it.

Maybe it was seeing a motion with an opposition filing deadline of tomorrow that was never calendared and realizing that only by the skin of my teeth had I avoided blowing another deadline in Kern County.

And, it's almost certainly related to knowing that there was enough work at the office that needed to be done today, that I wasn't going to be able to go home until after dark.

But whatever it was, by the time I got out to actually get some food (making myself late for a meeting with a prosepctive client in the process) I was in no mood for a disciplined meal consisting of raw vegetables and light soup. That would be a double cheeseburger, please, with onion rings.

I guess you could call it "slipping."

POSTSCRIPT, 9:30 PM: Four fingers of eighteen-year-old single-malt Scotch from Trader Joe's later (thirty bucks for that, are you reading this, Reynolds?) it is a little bit easier to relax.