Category: Reflections

Especially these days, many of us communicate with friends digitally. Some meet via Zoom, others talk on the phone, and still others text or instant message. These methods of communication all have pros and cons. Some leave the opportunity for a monkey wrench thrown into the mix.

I was chatting with friends in an online forum-type setting last night. At one point, one person in the chat essentially announced himself as a visitor by saying that he was “using” the account. From this, we inferred that he was not the normal user of the account. (Quizzically, I sent him a private message, via the same chat service, asking what was going on. I wasn’t convinced it was an alternate user, but via private message, he told me to ask him about his identity in the main chat.) I proceeded to ask him who he was… and a chat war ensued.

First, he attempted to tell me that he was the account holder. No dice, but he pursued the point for the remainder of the evening. Then he opted to undermine my reasoning for why he couldn’t be the account holder; again, no dice, but the argument was starting to look water-resistant. The next stop was self-degradation (of the account holder, a persuasion tactic to make me believe he was picking on himself). At this point, I held fast to knowing that he was an imposter, but I wasn’t certain; this friend would intermittently self-deprecate, but not like this; in fact, the things he mentioned weren’t things I thought the account holder thought of in a negative light. But then, he struck gold.

He vilified my contributions to a previous discussion.

I was a little shocked, a little amused, and too concerned with what was happening to think clearly. Sharing a picture I had sent him (which was of no import but the sharing of it still felt like a knife struck through the heart and twisted violently), he mocked me with several messages that followed. These messages included what appeared to be a psychological threat, something totally out of character for him but, between it sounding like something he had mentioned previously and my lack of clarity, I was quite concerned that it was. While my friend has shown his teeth in the past, this attack had far more bite to it than I ever anticipated from him. There was bitterness and intentional nastiness in his tone.

After a couple of minutes of his repeated messaging, I responded privately. I repeatedly attempted to ask him what was going on, and he kept with his story. He also continued to heckle me. Then, still professing to be my friend the account holder, he said the purpose of the discussion had been “to bait people… for entertainment.”

That’s how the conversation ended: without resolution as to whether it was my friend on the other side of the screen.

For the first time, I force closed the app to make sure I wouldn’t get any notifications. I fumbled around for a while, mentally struggling with the event. I went to bed trying to square how my friend ended up in such a vitriolic state given that, about half an hour before this queer discourse occurred, he was telling me that his day had gone relatively well. Even so, he doesn’t meaningfully lash out; what could have caused that? And the dreaded question: what do I do about it?

For my own sake, I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt; however, I couldn’t verify anything, and the person in charge of the account had claimed to be my friend. If it was really him… I went through various scenarios, none of which I liked. Every so often, I would feel pulled from the task at hand to consider another response. I was quite focused throughout the day – until a new retort popped into my head. Most of my day was caught between productivity and torment: if that really was my friend, and there isn’t anything I can do to help, I need to cut ties. The thought sucked.

Normally, I duck on for a minute or two several times per day. Today, I waited until late afternoon, when all of my other tech was glitching and I needed a brain break, to open up the app. The first thing I see is a public apology for the actions of the imposter the previous night. My wary response garnered an assurance that the imposter was dealt with. As the normal banter of the chat resumed, my heart lifted. As the friend turned to pick on me, the playful nature of the jab shone through. Yup: we good.

In less than twenty hours, my perspective was shaken, shifted, crumbled, clung to whatever it could grasp, and rebuilt itself. I had made more decisions on what to say than on whether or not to say anything at all. Particularly as this was a friend I had grown to trust rather rapidly, I questioned my own judgment, including both my rationale and my instincts. With a move to a new city pending, it also led me to question my ability to properly make friends. However, by the end of the day, the ship righted itself.

The joy that can be found in the virtue of patience! While I did well with my in-the-moment responses to the imposter, there was certainly plenty of room for improvement after the fact. If only I had allowed the scenario to play out, if only I had not dwelt on it, then I would have saved myself a good bit of worry while keeping the same positive result.

The only difference between fear and excitement is your attitude about it.

– Paraphrased from Peter McWilliams

I don’t entirely agree, but I must admit that this new adventure that I’m kicking off has me riddled with both fear and excitement.

I’m excited to move into the place I found. I’m excited that I found a place that both fits me and that I am happy to invite others into. I’m excited that I am moving to an amazing new city with so much to explore and a natural attraction nearby to incentivize friends to come visit. I’m excited that I will have a regular job with a regular income. I’m excited at the new challenges my new job will inevitably send my way. I’m excited about the team I’ll be joining. I’m excited at the now-blossoming friendship in my new city. I’m excited at the opportunity to build new relationships with people I am excited to meet. I’m excited to finally be moving on from a seemingly stagnant part of my life.

I fear I won’t make the cut at my new job. I fear that I’ll mess things up with the place I found. I fear that I missed something crucial in my planning, so my execution will fall through. I fear that I won’t know what to do with the space at my new place. I fear that I might lose touch with amazing people. I fear that moving across state lines during a pandemic will result in my being drawn and quartered in the town square. I fear that I’m not listening closely enough to what God wants me to do. Even moreso, I fear that moving to this new city will severely limit my access to the Mass and the Most Blessed Sacrament, and I fear that without a regular dose of Christ in the Eucharist that I will fail miserably at everything life throws my way.

Life is interesting. These days, I feel both excited and fearful consistently. How do we handle fear and excitement?

I often get jittery and feel compelled to do stuff. All sorts of stuff. Sometimes it’s hands-on stuff, sometimes it’s exercising-type stuff, and sometimes it’s just a lot of tiny tasks that take way more time than they fairly should. All sorts of stuff that sometimes isn’t very necessary to do at all. In my case, how I manage both is very similar.

My emotions make it even more necessary for me to write up a daily to-do list. I read somewhere that to-do lists aren’t actually helpful; the proper way to organize one’s time is to calendar specifically when each task is to be done. That would be great if I knew how long each task would take; I can’t even gauge how long I’ll be on the phone with my bank to ask a seemingly simple question let alone estimate how long a wonky work project is going to take. Instead, I’m writing a to-do list to prioritize my tasks so I can get the most time-sensitive, important, and daunting ones done first. Starting my day writing up a task list helps to keep me focused.

I’m also taking a few extra seconds in prayer. It doesn’t seem like much, but just making space at the end of rote prayers to talk to God, to tell God that I appreciate all that He is doing for me, and to praise Him really brightens my day and gives me strength to keep going. God honors my little moments. Sometimes He honors them so immediately that I am drawn closer to Him for longer than I originally intended because I would rather spend time with Him than with the world.

When I can’t seem to focus on the big stuff, I just put one foot in front of the other and sift through the pile of little stuff. It needs to get dealt with eventually, so it may as well be while it’s preventing me from getting the big stuff done.

What do you think? Are fear and excitement two sides of the same coin? How do you manage these emotions so you can continue to take care of yourself and be productive?

For anyone not impeccably precise with word choice (so roughly 95% of the English-speaking world), the words “nice” and “kind” tend to get conflated. However, they are far from the same thing. To (perhaps) hyperbolize the difference, to be nice is to act sweetly due to an oftentimes fearful desire to avoid conflict (read: doormat) whereas to be kind is to actively decide to generally treat people respectfully because it’s the right thing to do.

I have been called “nice” by many, many, many people. It tweaks my nerves. Today, I offer a counter to that.

I’m not nice. I’m kind, and I get really frustrated when I am called nice.

I try so very hard to be kind. I sometimes re-word emails for hours to try to avoid any unintentional tonal readings. I use emoticons and emojis so much that if I don’t include them in texts to certain friends, I get responses asking if I’m alright to totally mundane subject matter.

Example:
“Are you ready for that blizzard we’re expecting tomorrow?”
“Yup. I even got a spiffy new shovel.”
“… Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Why? :-?”
“You didn’t use an emoji. I was worried something was wrong.”

My actions are, more often than not, active decisions in which I not only decide what to do but also how to do it in a way that is as uplifting as possible. This is absolutely obvious in a variety of situations. Some circumstances that might highlight just how not nice I am include:

• Unnecessary cruelty towards others.
• Necessary cruelty to others. (Oh wait – that generally doesn’t exit.)
• Me being really tired and dealing with something seemingly intentionally frustrating.
• Tired, idiotic tropes.
• People pretending to know more about things than they do and using such an act to lord themselves over others.
• Lording oneself over others generally (at least when it’s not hilarious).
• Someone apparently intentionally wasting the time of others. (Just why?)

That last point on the list is the reason I’m agitated (and clearly not nice) at the moment. Recently, I have spent a substantial amount of time researching my next move (which is interstate, by the way): looking into the rental market, contacting landlords, researching neighborhoods in my new locale, putting together notes on various options, following up with landlords, scheduling virtual tours, scheduling in-person viewings (#COVID_Complications), updating property notes, putting together tenantability packets, setting up all of the logistics of traveling to view the properties and hopefully sign a lease agreement…

I understand all of the labor involved in finding a new apartment, particularly when a tenant is as picky as I am, especially given that I’m also quite frugal. It complicates things. But I know this isn’t the fault of the landlords; it’s just part of the apartment-hunting game. Thus, I don’t take it out on landlords; they’re generally doing what they can to lure me in to sign a lease with them, and that includes being helpful and kind and responsive.

(As for the likely-horrible landlords, those get weeded out by the simple fact that they are unhelpful and/or unresponsive. If they can’t give me a straight answer to a simple and direct question about a unit, or if they don’t bother to even acknowledge that I have questions before I send an application with money attached, how could I trust that they would send maintenance if my furnace broke down mid-winter? Done; weeded out.)

Therefore, as a general rule, most decent landlords are helpful and kind and responsive to inquiries about vacancies they’re looking to fill.

Most of them.

And with every initial inquiry I submit, I expect that the landlord will be a decent human being and not waste my time or their time. Sometimes I have questions that the landlord doesn’t have the answer to, and I typically accept estimates and guesses. (I frown upon invitations to do additional research with third parties about any specific property because the landlord is too lazy to do it themselves; knowing the property details is part of a landlord’s job in enticing a new tenant. This point could be a post all its own.) Regardless, I expect substantive responsiveness because it’s part of treating people properly.

You already know where this is going.

Most of the landlords I’ve spoken with have been solid (or they haven’t replied at all, which is also fine because that means they weed themselves out). A couple of them have totally shined. They’re fabulous; I hope I remember to send them Christmas cards even if I end up living elsewhere. They answer questions, offer additional information that’s relevant to the questions I asked, and offer paths forward. (I would say they did it all with smiles, but I didn’t actually see the emotions in the emails, and even if I could, I’m quite certain one of them was being very kind while grinding her teeth to deal with one of my follow-up questions.) Overall, good experiences thus far.

A few of them have half-responded. Partial responses (answering some questions but not others) get the benefit of the doubt on the first reply; if the next email doesn’t rectify the deficiencies in my reply, ya’done, we’done, no mo’. I ain’t got time for lies, deceit, and intentional omissions. No niceness about it; I’m not wasting my kindness on another email with some jerk.

But how does this apply with phone tag?

One of the landlords I was trying to connect with requested phone call contact. So, I sent an email so he would have a copy of my questions and then called. No answer; that’s fine, I left him a voicemail. He’s busy, he’ll call back, and he has my email with my inquiries and my contact information as a reminder that I want to talk with him.

Later that day, I finalized plans to go for in-person viewings. I sent a follow-up email to notify this landlord and request a timeslot to see the unit. So, at this point, I had sent two emails and had left one voicemail.

Three days later, after finalizing viewing times with every other landlord on my list, I get a non-descript reply to my second email. It answers zero of my questions (from either my first email, with substantive inquiries, or my second email, just asking about a viewing), imparts irrelevant information, and asks me to call. Okay…? I already did, and I left a voicemail; I gave you my phone number both via email and via voicemail. Why didn’t you just call me?

I called him again at about the same time his email had come through (it was next-day ’cause I’m a bad millennial who missed the email on the day of) figuring he would likely be available then. Again, no answer. I left another voicemail. Four-and-a-half hours later, I tried again and got the deny call button. (In case you’re wondering how I could tell, it rang once then went immediately to voicemail. That’s a dead give-away.) Granting him the benefit of the doubt, I figured he was with a client and would call me back after.

Well, over two hours later, still no dice, so I sent a follow-up email. My email correspondence is so warm that it often borders on unprofessional. (Sometimes it crosses that line. It’s a very unclear line. But as long as it’s kind-hearted and the other correspondents receive it well, I figure it’s fine.) I sometimes send smileys in work emails. If I can spread a little cheer with necessary correspondence, why wouldn’t I? (#BeJoyful.)

My (probably final) follow-up email was not so cheerful. In fact, it highlights the fact that I am not a nice individual. Specifically, I pointed out all of my attempts to reach him, his lacking attempt to respond to my inquiry, and a brusquely-phrased “can I see it or not?” which ended, effectively, with, This is your last chance because I will not tolerate any more of your shenanigans. (I deleted the language about digital footsies, annoyingness, and unprofessionalism [and, “Do you even want to rent this unit?] because that borders on disrespectful and came clearly enough through the rest of the email.)

I was kind. I was kind six times: my three phone calls, my two emails, and interpreting his one email. Come that seventh time, I was done. Do not waste my time and pretend that, basically, I’m not doing my due diligence. If he cannot respect me as a human being, or for the time I have put in to craft specific and tailored questions, or even for the revenue that dealing with me would generate for you, then I will not tolerate him. One targeted email (which did include an olive branch, should he bother to read it), and the correspondence is over.

(I’ve got way options than that one, anyway, so it didn’t do me any harm.)

So to bring this back around, I am a kind person, but I am certainly not a nice person. My default is quite cheery, hopeful, and respectful. However, I will not be a doormat; I have zero interest in interacting with people who actively disrespect others – including (finally) myself. My time is too precious to waste on people who don’t value it.

And yours is, too.

Recap (because even venting should have a purpose):

• Be kind, but don’t be nice.
• Grant the benefit of the doubt.
• Don’t let others get away with treating you disrespectfully. You always have the option of walking away.

~ ~ ~

A friend recently told me that I should vent instead of bottling emotions because bottling causes them to fester and result in problems. This post is my attempt to see if there is anything to such madness. So, welcome to the dark recesses of my mind…
For the record, I still think this is weird.

Have you ever had one of those days where it felt like, even though you were diligent and persistent and insightful and thorough and working your hardest, you seemed to be beating your head on a telephone pole as you stumbled around it? You know, like you’re going in circles and simultaneously running into a wall but you neither recognize the circle nor the wall until the reality crashes into you like a baby grand piano dropped off the skyscraper overhead?

So that was kind of me today. I thought I was doing great – until I got a call insisting I should have waited on sending something out. (Oddly enough, there were no criticisms of the work itself, and I couldn’t find anything I would have done differently after our conversation.) Then this little nitpick, and that little slight, and … was that a test to see if I was paying attention? Seriously?

A lot of little things built up today. As soon as I had a small pile, I took a deep breath and told myself that at least at the end of the day, I would have a little bit of time to talk to a particular friend who is excellent at cheering me up. Then, it hit me: not tonight – I have a commitment. I felt torn. I really wanted to talk to my friend, but I had a rare invitation to Mass in the middle of the corona-crazy. I couldn’t miss Mass. For a plethora of reasons, I couldn’t miss Mass.

So I ended my workday a little deflated; I tend to assume I can get everything in, but that wasn’t happening today.

Except it did.

After I return from Mass, I noticed he was still online. Weird. A little late. I pinged him to see what was up, and we started chatting. Altruistically, I pointed out the time, and I was grateful when he said he was staying up a little later tonight.

We chatted and played a game together, talking life and work and monotony and trials and tribulations as we fought bosses and their minions. Even though he’d had a rather rough day, it made me feel better just listening to him, connecting with him. In some ways, I can’t comprehend the issues he’s having. But in some respects, I know them all too well.

After a while, he sighs, clearly exhausted. “Alright. I really gotta get some sleep. Thanks for talking with me; you cheered me up.”

Me?! Cheered you up?

I was delighted I could be that person for him, that light shining through one of the tiny peepholes atop a deep, dank tunnel. But was I? What did I even do? Not even; let’s be real: he cheered me up just by talking to me, not to mention the content included some interest-piquing topics. You did what now? Aww, it’s so kind that you helped her out like that.

Whatever the reasons, we were both in the right place at the right time to properly help each other without it costing anything at all to ourselves. (… Okay, maybe it cost the sleep we each would have otherwise gotten. Fair play.) We each helped the other and the person offering didn’t lose anything for it. In fact, we each clearly gained from the experience.

When is the last time you did something so you could be rejuvenated but instead helped to rejuvenate someone else and came out feeling invigorated?

One of the major mantras I heard in undergrad was no doubt meant to assuage the homesickness of the vast majority of new students. Freshman, recent transfers, and traveling students probably heard it the most often. It was simple:

Find your people.

Anyone who found their people were socially fulfilled and truly able to connect on a deep level. Anyone who didn’t find their people presumably felt homesick and lonely. (Presumably, but not necessarily. Also, sidenote: loneliness does not equate to being alone; one can be lonely in a crowded room or not lonely standing at the bow of a one-man sailboat in the middle of the Atlantic with only water in sight.)

The big question:

How?

It certainly can be a different route for everybody who manages to accomplish the goal, but something is common to every avenue. The concept is applicable cross-culturally, too; whether you’re a plumber in Tokyo, Japan or a merchant in Blue Sky, Montana, the same guiding principle is at work for finding your people.

Strive to be your best self.

I know, that’s gotten pretty cliche, but grant me some leniency to unpack the idea.

We naturally gravitate toward people whom we enjoy spending time with. Generally speaking, these people make us feel better about ourselves (and without any sour aftertaste that some interactions leave behind). They raise others up in accordance with their values. They make us feel empowered to truly live more boldly as ourselves. When they walk in the room, our nervousness turns to relief and encouragement. When we would have otherwise choked back laughter due to uncertainty, we smile and laugh freely.

Different people gravitate toward different traits. A common tendency across the board tends to be confidence, but a confident techie won’t have the same influence in a foodie convention as would be expected at a new gadgets convention. Regardless, even mingling with foodies, there’s a certain sense of calm that emanates from people who know who they are even when out of their element. But the techie is still out of their element, and one can only know that if they know what their element is.

The point is, other than confidence, kindness, and respect, most traits vary by who your people are, so the question shifts a little.

(Aren’t you excited? It’s the return of the stick people! … I digress.)

What values do you hold? How can you more fully embrace those values? If fear, embarrassment, and sheepishness were on vacation for a day, what would you do and why? (Bonus question: what is keeping you from living like that now?) Why do you value one thing over another? What do you want to more exemplify in your life? In five, ten, twenty, a hundred years, what do you want to look back on and say, “I chose that habit,” or, “I decided to be that person, and the hard work was well worth it,” or, “I’m proud of myself for making that decision?”

We are who we choose to be.

– Marshal James Raynor, StarCraft II: Wings of Liberty Campaign

It is up to each of us to navigate the waters of life in the way that maximizes our respective life experiences. The best way to figure out the path that makes the most sense for us is by first figuring out where we want to be. Once we know the goal, we can take directed actions to move toward it. With a target in mind, move toward it by growing in the traits that inspired you to pick that goal in the first place. And if the goal changes, so what? You’ll just have grown in the traits that you admire, and that should help you get to the next goal.

That’s all fine and dandy, but what does that have to do with finding your people?

You can’t find your people if you don’t know whom to look for.

And if you embody the traits that belong to your people, they will seek you out, too!

Once you know the person you want to be and the people you want to be around, you will notice when the people around you embody those traits, and you will be able to actively initiate spending more time with them. Boom: you found your people.

A relevant story…

It’s been rather hectic lately. There’s the pandemic, so many cancellations, and, on the flip side, I’ve had more work the past couple of weeks than any month (or two) last year. (Couple that with loved ones thinking everyone has nothing to do because we’re all stuck sheltering in place and it’s quite the storm.) During really crazy weeks, I typically find solace in attending an extra Mass. Given the cancellation of all public Mass celebrations, I now hop on an online game to let my brain detox.

Most of the time, if I play with anyone online, I’m often the silent addition to the party. I can be a team player and communicate mostly with my actions rather than having to discuss anything. (Instead, I tend to get my chattering out in chat channels where people are posting loopy things or conspiracy theories: there is less of a chance of clashing with personalities that I will have to handle for two hours.)

I join the lobby of my favorite game, thrilled that there is a lobby. (It’s not the most popular game.) There are a few people already there, bantering roughly about this, that, and the other thing. (Imagine yo mama jokes coupled with fake disdain and an obvious friendly familiarity betwixt the parties: that was the vibe.) Braindead though I felt, I also felt my eyes light up at the playful jibes and repartees. The string of commentary was too much for me to not enjoy.

The game’s afoot – and they’re all really good at it. (They’re much better than I am, at least, and I’m halfway decent.) As they’re going, they continue the wordplay. Over the course of the (relatively long) game, I became familiar enough with it to dare to offer my own comment, taking the side of the most recent victim. Specifically, I played naïve and accused one of being unfairly cruel to another. He immediately fell back to a defensive position of explaining that it was all in good fun. At that point, I had to reel in the notion that I was offended by his treatment of another person to assuage his fears that he damaged me, cajoling him into bantering with me.

During that sort of kindly banterous exchange is precisely when I feel most like myself, most like the person I want to be. My courage to dip my toe into the water resulted in an adventure we’re still enjoying. One of my virtues is courage. While I am working on that trait, I’m not about to argue that I have much courage most of the time. It was a decision that I made, fighting against many a fear, that led me to a beautiful friendship with one of my people.

There’s more to the courageous-enough-to-spit-it-out storyline. It wasn’t just a one-hit wonder.

We played several games together, and we were getting along exceptionally well. Come the end of the awesome game day, he shoots me a private message. Not a friend request, a private message. And it’s not a, “What time will you be on tomorrow?” Nope. Much deeper than that.

“Do you believe in God?”

I froze. The question completely caught me off guard. The obvious answer was yes, but the two types of people who would ask that kind of question are typically hardcore atheists and those totally on fire with faith – neither of which I felt as though I could handle right then, so I contemplated pretending to not see the message for a split second. Instead, I expressed gratitude for the wonderful day meeting a great person, sorrowfully resigning myself to losing the contact.

“Yes. Do you?”

My breathing became slightly ragged as soon as I sent the message, and I started fidgeting, saying a silent prayer that he wouldn’t hold it against me. Who admits to anything deep online? I held my breath, pinching my finger, eyebrows furrowed. Although the reply came almost instantly, I remember the intense suspense from that moment.

“Definitely. 😎”

Like Alpha: no follow-up, and no charge. It was just a simple reply stating we were on the same page, establishing a baseline for later communications. I sat there staring at that line for a minute. Based on all of the (admittedly totally irrelevant) evidence, I was convinced he was going to never speak to me again. Instead, I did a simple, small act of standing up for my God, and I was rewarded beyond measure.

I found my people (or at least one of them).

It was a fantastic feeling. It is a fantastic feeling. We connect on a deeper level than was possible before, talking about church and Bible studies and making jokes for Jesus. (Those are hilarious, by the way.) But it’s not just that: we talk food, animals, work, travel, swords (who doesn’t love swords, am I right?), embarrassing moments, highs, lows, and anything else that comes to mind. I can talk about all of the things I want to talk about with, and listen to insights on numerous topics from, an awesome person holding similar values. And all it took from me were baby steps of courage, tiny acts at key moments where I was being the person I want to more fully become. That was it. Baby steps of being the person I want to be, and one of my people found me.

Are you still looking for your people? Whom do you want to be? What small actions are you taking to get there?

I received a new project yesterday. It looked daunting: preparing and filing an entire patent application for a technology I wasn’t particularly well acquainted with, but know well enough that I recognize the technical field is fairly crowded and thus the specification needs to contain plenty of contingencies, to be filed in a week. That meant that I had about two days to work on it, three business days if we expected the client to drag their feet with respect to some additional documentation we need for filing. For perspective, I expect to spend roughly a week on preparing an application in a field I’m relatively acquainted with. And yet, I knew that I could not let the firm down; they were counting on me, putting their reputation on the line for me to be able to prepare this application for a longstanding client. Thankfully, I thought, I have the weekend between now and day three, so I can commit my Saturday to it.

I tackled tasks for other projects on my docket so they wouldn’t distract me as I was working on the application. Then, just as I was getting ready to dive headlong into the big project yesterday, my computer screen died.

The remainder of the day went to saving computer. And a tele-meeting while I was still working on it. And panicking about my computer dying on me. And getting compressed air to fix it. (And trying to find a dozen eggs while I was out. And, after failing thrice, trying to get a sandwich with eggs on it instead – and failing at that as well because they, too, were out of egg.) And, and, and. Long story short, the innards are clean and the computer is up and running better than it has been for the last several months, but it took time.

Just as I was preparing for bed a little after midnight, I open up my phone to adjust my alarm clock for a little more than six hours later. As I saved my alarm edit, an email came through regarding the work I do on something with a 0900 deadline every weekday: more to do than normal, please work on it ASAP. I was beat, so, in my weakness, I gave it up to God and crawled into bed, allowing the thoughts about the meeting I had in the morning, which posed a significant conflict to my ability to get that done, just swirl about and curl loose knots in my grey matter.

This morning, I was hailed before I could get dressed: the house I live in had been burglarized. There wasn’t much I could do about it, if anything, but it was clearly distressing, especially because people were in the vicinity while it was happening, they just didn’t realize it until later. But I had a meeting to get to, and work to do, and a docket to clear so I could thoughtfully and thoroughly prepare the application now pending on my docket.

I jump on to my computer, now late for my meeting, and load up alternative pages with the work for the deadline this morning. Good meeting; I only half attended mentally because I was busy meeting the aforementioned impending deadline. And the email I received after midnight? It had a follow-up attached to it pleading for notice about whether or not I would be able to help meet the deadline. Thankfully, I noticed it (and the explanation of the importance of meeting the morning deadlines, which I had heard previously and completely understood) after the deadline; otherwise, I would have likely snarkily responded that I can help but I’m too busy replying to an email instead.

Again, as I’m opening up files to jump into this big project, I get a phone call about another project that needs immediate attention to assuage the fears of a client. Yeah, no. So I had to explain to a seasoned attorney that I had to put the immediate, hard-external-deadline project ahead of the (likely unfounded) fears of a client regarding a transaction that we don’t even have half the necessary documents for yet.

Are you still tracking? It’s barely mid-morning, yet I already need a nap.

I log into my work email to discover an automated email sitting in my inbox: I was supposed to have a ready-to-file draft prepared for, and sent to, the client today. So that Saturday I was counting on to make a Monday deadline? Yeah, no, I don’t get that. Head spinning, I grab my tea and finally jump in.

Reviewing the task, I notice that it’s a lot of, effectively, copy and paste followed by substantive review to ensure compliance with domestic rules and practices. It’s not drafting from scratch. It’s not even drafting from an invention disclosure form. They basically did all of the substantive work; I just have to make sure it complies with the domestic regulations and advise to anything that doesn’t. The task just got phenomenally easier.

A few hours in, I hit a snag and call the paralegal for the project for help asking about differences between templates.

“I got X done, Y done, and Z done… Now I just have to do is A, B, and C.”

“Oh, no, no. I do A, B, and C; there’s a shortcut for those with a program we use.”

“Oh.”

“Yep. Though, I do think you should look at M and Q. Did you do that yet?”

“Ah. M. Yeah, that’s just making more work for ourselves; we can change it later if we need to, but it should be fine. As for Q… I’ll take a look at that now. Sweet! This looks like fun!”

“This is how you want to spend your Friday night?”

Q ended up being a short and relatively stimulating task which I was so invigorated by that I sent an excited text to a friend: I got to do lawyering today! It was super cool. And I kept seeing my name attached to documents, not just the names of the attorneys I’m working with. I still energized by the experience!

The project that I was so concerned about ended up taking less than a day’s work. And the client wasn’t even ready with the additional documents that we need, so it didn’t actually have to be done until Monday, maybe even Tuesday.

My last 24-hours have consisted of many, many molehills which I have consistently made mountains of. I still have tasks that, at the beginning of the week, I was hoping I would have done by now, but I don’t need to fret about them. I can calm down a bit because what needs to get done will get done.

Give it to God: He never disappoints.