sometimes the day-to-day is too much

Today is one of those days where I have a whole new appreciation for people with children who are still able to function on a daily basis. Seriously, how do they do it? The BF has been sick for about a week now. Well, now it's just the production of never ending amounts of mucus resulting in a pretty horrible cough. I was pretty impressed that on day one he took it upon himself to visit the doctor, but all they gave him was cough syrup. Unfortunately I think this is mostly allergy-related and if you live in Austin, TX, there is no relief. Let's just hope it clears up when we land in Germany.

Because coughing prefers to do most of its work at night, I'm not getting much sleep. It's definitely thrown me off and combined with PMS, I'm a total space case. Cue me making a fool of myself in court today. I swear this judge is going to strangle me eventually, but so far she's been pretty patient. I just hate the feeling of knowing my colleagues saw me do and say idiotic things. Yeah, I'm probably magnifying it, but I tend to be pretty hard on myself. Right now I have an overwhelming desire to slink off, curl up in a corner and sleep for 20 hours.

It's just one of those days where I'm imagining doing something a little more joyful for a living. Maybe I'll do adoptions next. You know, bring families together. Or something completely different, like be a pre-kindergarten teacher. I'm sure I'll be able to pay off my student loans on whatever pre-K teachers make, right? You'd think I would get a kick out of making grown men cry. Or feel this satisfaction in helping someone get protection from an abusive partner. And for the most part I do, but sometimes I wish I could see families coming together instead of being ripped apart. Sometimes I wish I didn't always hear about how children have been exposed to truly awful things, things that rip away their innocence and any semblance of a carefree childhood and change them forever. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to hear about the horrible things people do to others, to people they claim to love. How do relationships get to the point where women are raped at knife point in front of their children? Or a young woman is told she's stupid, ugly, worthless, a whore over and over again? It breaks my heart to hear a young woman ask, "Is it okay that married people have friends?" and see that she truly doesn't know that in healthy relationships, both spouses will have friends of both sexes and that's normal.

I know what it's like to be in a relationship where you're so beat down mentally that you lose all perspective and the dysfunction becomes your reality. I know what it's like to feel like you have to make it work because this is all you deserve and if it ends, you've failed and you'll be left all alone. I know what it's like to feel that despair mixed with fear and confusion. I've been on that roller coaster ride of passionate love followed by pain and anger and hurt so overwhelming that it just leaves you stunned, unable to feel anything. When I see that look in an applicant's eye and hear the almost-dead tone in her voice, I know where she is, what she's feeling. She's given up, her heart so scarred from being injured over and over again that it's easier not to feel. I know what she's living.

Although I've been fortunate that I never lived the physical abuse that many of our applicants survive, I can empathize with the emotional toll. And I also know what it's like to come out the other side of all that, to realize that you can leave, that you do deserve better and that being alone forever is a billion times better than spending another day, another minute, another second in that bad relationship. And I'm proud of them for taking that step.

I guess that's why I keep doing this, even on days like today. But I'm starting to realize that I need more balance. I need to stop taking pro bono immigration cases that deal with domestic violence. And I could probably stand to pull back from some of the abortion assistance work, although that will probably be more of a slow process over the next two years or so. But we'll see where I am in two years, where life has taken me. I have a feeling that the more I create intentions to have joy, calm and happiness in my life, the more those things will come. And despite what I do for 40 hours a week, that is my focus.

Oh yes, I'm doing it!

Folks, I'd like to take a little break from my gag-worthy perfect love life to discuss a very important topic, one I haven't been addressing nearly enough lately: pooping. Namely, pooping in public.

My sister thinks I have no shame, but frankly, I'm amazed at those who can hold it long enough to get to the home toilet. If I'm at work 8-10 hours per day and the morning shits come on, how is it even possible to hold it in? I can barely make it down the hall! Sure, I'd prefer the comforts of home, such as toilet paper that doesn't contain chunks of bark. But it's a long commute to my house. And when you gotta go...

There's also the issue of my irritable bowel syndrome. Whenever I get any sort of adrenaline rush, I need to poop. And I still get that combination of nerves and anticipation right before a contested hearing. It used to make me almost sick and I would dread hearings. But after my first few wins, I realized that it's actually pretty easy and kinda fun. And with protective orders, never, ever boring. But yeah, I've torn up a few courthouse bathrooms. My favorite happened recently. I had been a little, uh, clogged and then I had a severe sense of urgency. I left my coworkers to push our cart of files, etc. into the courtroom and rushed to the bathroom. After one of the most satisfyingly large bowel evacuations in history, a woman walked into the bathroom. I heard her say, "Whew! It really stinks!" as I quickly finished up, washed my hands and rushed out, leaving the damage behind.

Speaking of washing hands: OH DEAR GOD, I do not understand people who don't wash up after they use the bathroom, especially #2. In my last office, which was a rather small staff, the non-washers were quickly identified. Believe me, I took note of whose feet I saw under the stall when I didn't hear them hit the sink after their Big Stinky. If my OCD was worse, I would probably just wear gloves all the time. Seriously. Gross.

For the record, I ALWAYS wash my hands. And if you're not doing it, please for the love of the tiny baby Jesus in his swaddling clothes, START.

So, there it is, I'm a self-identified public pooper. What about the rest of you? Who's with me on the pooping? And while we're on the subject, what about the differing pooping habits of men and women? Why do so many men prefer to sit in their stink, hanging out on the toilet for the greater part of an hour reading? What's the about, anyway? I prefer to do my reading with my butt clean. And on a more comfortable chair. Also, I like to get in, get it done, get out. Any female bathroom lingerers out there? I want to understand your mentality. Enlighten me!