Before He Cheats

Anniversaries are a bitch. I thought I was done with them. I had most of the big ones hit me in the Fall of 2005, then I had just my grandmother's death this year, or so I thought. Well I hadn't been sleeping normally all this past week, Not that normal is normal for me but since I started taking the Trazedone I have been sleeping like a baby. I love Trazedone. I would go to bat for my Trazedone. K. told me last year when I was going through all of those bad one year anniversaries that the subconscious remembers. Maybe it's like muscle memory, how your body remembers and knows how to do certain things even when it's been awhile. So I realized that yesterday was one year from my firm Christmas party last year. I remember the date because I remember waking up naked and dehydrated in my grandmother's bed, scared about what I may have confessed to the OC. I got up, turned on the radio and heard that the Transit Strike had begun.

So when I tried to figure out why this anniversary had gotten under my skin and was uncomfortably tugging at me, my first thought was more residuals about the OC. I recalled the walk from the Christmas party to the bar and how we walked there on our own, my arm in his. I never wanted that walk to end. I remembered frantically calling S. the next morning to ask her if anything happened and whether I had made a fool out of myself because I didn't remember anything from the bar besides getting my first drink. She told me that the OC and I spent our time there canoodling, that I was 'gazing' at him, her word, and at one point had one of his hands in mine. I thought about this and thought about it and felt nothing. This wasn't the anniversary that is plaguing me. What is plaguing me? Why can't I sleep? I dug deeper.

Yesterday in yoga, I finally broke. Yoga and running are great for me making breakthroughs or decisions. It was my job. Since they let me go I have never felt anything but relief for being involuntarily freed from that job that was sucking the self-respect out of me. But last night was different. I felt the injustice of it. When I got fired I had finally accepted that they accepted me there. I had finally decorated my office and put my diplomas and framed marathon posters on the walls. I had finally started feeling comfortable. And that's when I was fired. I was completely blindsided. There were no warning signals. Maybe it was clear to them that I was unhappy but I churned out a lot of work there and most of it was damn good. There were always communication issues but you'd think if there was something seriously wrong they would have warned me never to do it again. I was actually ready to ask for a raise and was keeping careful record of everything I did from every phone call I made, fax I sent, work I delegated to the paralegal (who was incompetent by the way), court appearances I went on, prison visits, research projects and my primary task, doing all of the motion writing to plead my case for the raise.

Speaking of the motion writing, I wrote a sentencing memorandum after never having seen one, having no idea of the protocol in a weekend. I was given no notice and no instruction; I was just told to write it. The same thing happened with my first wiretap motion. I was told on a Monday that it was due the following Monday. Meanwhile I was getting knee surgery on the Thursday and had Friday off to recouperate. I had to read through boxes of wiretap applications, digest them, understand them, understand what a wiretap motion is and then write the damn thing. S. helped me by sending me two that she had written so I could see what one looked like. LAO, my predescessor chided me for not asking for more help. But my bosses made me feel like I should know this stuff, that I was a complete idiot for not knowing it so asking her or asking S was difficult for me. It was enough that my bosses thought I was stupid and slow; I wanted to hide that from my new friends. My bosses never contemplated that maybe I've never heard of the OCCA statute so to write a response in an OCCA case, a little background information may have helped. But I never got any instruction and would spend time looking at the file, looking for clues but having no clue like I was George Costanza spending the entire day on the Pensky file (sorry for all of the Seinfeld references of late; I can't help myself).

Ultimately I learned a lot there. For the most part I taught myself but I couldn't have survived there as long as I did without S., my dad or LAO's help. By the time I was fired, I had gotten the hang of it and thought I had gotten the hang of my employers. I had written and researched on enough different issues that I was confident and had my own written-from-scratch motions to cut and paste for future motions should similar issues arises. I finally felt comfortable, capable and confident in June 2006. And that's when they let me go.

As much I needed to get out of there, as much as it was the right thing, as much as it freed me; it shouldn't have happened the way it did. As much as I love surprises and change and challenge, that was not cool. It wasn't supposed to go down like that. Fine, fire me; but give me warnings and give me a reason. That's exactly how my break-up with Illinois felt. You should've seen me when we first started dating. Everytime he called me or we hung out, I thought was the last time. Even though he constantly asked me to marry him and was introducing me as his fiancee within weeks of us meeting, even though he told me he loved me within weeks of us meeting, even after we moved in together; I never felt safe or secure in the relationship and his continued affection. That is, until the end when I finally let go and allowed myself to settle into a forever with him and believe that I was his soulmate that he loved me as much as he said he did and then he left. I was completely unprepared and completely blindsided.

What does this all say about me? That when you get to know me you realize that I am not what I appear? That my first impression is my best impression? That I am only fun and interesting and smart in the beginning? I don't know. All it tells me is never to get comfortable. Comfortable means a change is going to come and ain't going to be good.