Can you tell when I'm busy?
No personal photos. No personal stories. No fun food adventures.
It's not even 10 p.m., and I'm pooped. I drove 172 miles today, trekked in the blazing sun and tried to convince a mother who was busy corralling two kids to do what I wanted her to do or I would have to sue, and talked shop with Shark and Pops for four hours in preparation for an upcoming mediation. Facts, figures, and documents galore.
I almost fell asleep during the meeting. I think I yawned 30 times. I had to blink my eyes really hard and really deliberately to keep them open. At least we made progress. We are a good team. Lots of brainpower in one room.
I don't get the woman from this morning, though. I'm trying save her from a lot of trouble. My proposed out-of-court solution is so simple and so fair. This woman has no idea what she's in for if I go after her. I don't want to go after her. It's truly a waste of my precious time when I could be doing more important things. If we go to war, she won't just lose. She will lose big. Huge. And I will be the cause of it.
Why doesn't she understand that I'm trying to avoid making her life hell?