The glamorous life

The wind is whipping everything around.  Including the rain banging against the windows.   My Miami tan is covered in JBrand jeans, knee high flat boots, an H&M t shirt and a Donna Karan jacket I've had since the 90s that will never go out of style.  All black of course.

Sitting on my psychedelic orange bouncy ball.  Staring at the two redwells of documents Anne just printed out so I could use them as exhibits.  We have four days of depositions down in Vancouver, WA starting tomorrow.   Everything is on my computer.  But we still need paper from time to time.  It took Anne about three hours to print it all out.  Ugh.

My intercom buzzes.  Someone wants to talk to me.  Sure.  Get on the phone.  For twenty minutes listen to monologue.  Person is being stalked by "mini mafias."  Four of them.  People are entering her home taking things.  They watch her.  They have gotten into her car and tampered with it after an oil change.  They probably are filming her.  They won't leave her alone   She moved to get away from them.  But they followed her.  What can she do legally.  I say - you should probably call the police.  Oh, did that.  She says.  They said I'm crazy.  hmmm.  Can't a lawyer go to court and stop them.

Tell her she can go to court and get a restraining order but she needs proof.  She should set up some hidden cameras.  Good idea she says.  Where should I put them.  We discuss this for awhile.  She's happy.  She'll probably call back one day.  Poor dear.

Go back to staring at the stack of documents.  Get a big box briefcase thing.  The kind we used before computers.  Some lawyers still use them.  Apparently including me.  Load it up.  Decide to take it to the car now and get something to eat.  Put on black puffy coat.  Get car keys.  Lug box briefcase thing to the kitchen on the way outside.  Pull meal out of freezer.  Stick it in microwave for four minutes.  Plan to pick it up on way back in.  Walk to the back entry.  Exit with briefcase.  Realize, don't have the card key to get into the office.  Reach for the door.  Click.  Too late.  It closes.

Rain is pinging off my coat.  Crud.  Go stick the box in the car.  Walk around the front of the building.  It is 6:30 pm.  Only Anne and Mimy are still there.  Push on the buzzer but no one hears it.  Bang on the door.  Sounds like thump thump thump.  Not very loud.  The traffic is louder than the noise from my fist.  The door is glass and don't want to bang too hard.  Rap on it with keys.  This is a sharper higher frequency.  But no one hears me.  Just about ready to stamp foot or start screaming.  Can't decide which.

A huddled up woman comes rushing by. I say - do you have a cell phone.  Amazingly she stops.  If some woman dressed in black with a hood on approached me at night and asked me for a phone, I'd keep on walking.   But I must look harmless and pathetic.  So she stops and I give her Anne's number.  She dials it.  Goes to voice mail.  Drat.  Give her Mimy's number.  She dials it.  Ring. Ring.  And then thank heavens, Mimy answers.

Tell her I'm locked outside.  She starts laughing.  Click on her and hand the phone back to the savior.  Thank her profusely as she continues blowing her way down the sidewalk.  Mimy lets me in.  Shake the water off and grumble thanks.

Climb the stairs.  Drop coat in pile in office.  Hustle to kitchen.  Food is done and now not hot.  Nuke it for another minute.  Oops now it is hot but partially hardened.  Take it back to my office.  Eat it and finish bookmarking documents.