Living after the Holidays...

Sorry if I seem to be engaging in cliches lately, but don't you think there should be about a week's worth of breathing space after Jan 1? Like, everyone should just go to have coffee somewhere and talk about life and what they think they're going to be able to do with the days they have left and their dreams and hopes and maybe even their fears. Something that has nothing to do with gifts and cards and egg nog. Something that doesn't include drinking copious amounts of champagne, dancing on the tables and getting a New Year's kiss.

Ah, but life beckons. Anyway, if we all went out for coffee, there'd have to be someone making and serving the coffee, wouldn't there? So that week wouldn't be much of a breather for them.

As my old imaginary mentor would often tell me, nothing is easy, except the things which aren't much worth doing. I created an imaginary mentor because my life seems to be somewhat short on real mentors. After a while you get tired of looking for the teacher and you just teach yourself. which means there will be gaps in your knowledge, gaps which are often plugged with semi-knowledge and imaginary truths. But what the hell. If you can't create your own reality, why worry about someone else's?

So it's back to work week for the world. I have a quiet week at the practice. A few DMV hearings, a court appearance on Friday to hear the judgment in a civil suit, an interview or two. I'm actually using the time to catch up on my lagging tasks, calling witnesses, writing motions, getting trials in shape. I start a big one next Monday--a large marijuana growing case which has six attorneys. I have the feeling that voir dire itself will last about a month. Can you imagine sitting in a courtroom for two to three months with five other lawyers on the defense side, and the District Attorney as well? It might not be Hell but it certainly would qualify for Purgatory.

The photo above, BTW, is of my lovely young son, soon to be 17 years old in February. He is officially taller than I am by about two inches, and immeasurably more handsome. He and I were at a local restaurant on Sunday night and I asked the 20 something waitress, "don't you think he looks handsome?" she regarded him and her eyes widened and she almost whispered, "yes." Lord, what I would have given to ever have had such an effect on a young girl. Mostly I made the young girls laugh when I was young, usually by dancing with them. I had all the grace of a racoon wearing pants.

Oh well. It's a new year and I have two goals: First, to keep myself caught up in the practice. Second, to lose 25 pounds around the gut. I'm pretty much on my way to both. I have about four hours of work in the office before I am officially caught up; and I've been to the gym twice already this week. I hope to get to bed in time to wake at 5:30 to go a third day in a row. I figure I'll get a running start on the gym thing and then settle into 3 to 4 times a week.

The true challenge is the eating. From my youth I have eaten ravenously, as if I didn't know when I would eat again. And, in my youth, that was a serious issue. Now, of course, I'm trying to be more settled. So the goal is to control my portions and not eat like a crazy shipwrecked sailor who's back in the mess hall for the first time in 10 years.

As for you, my 6 readers, I wish you the joy of the new year and prosperty in whatever way you define it. Now, to bed.