Confessions of a Laid-off Lawyer

Just Your Average Joe Blogging Away His Debt—In One Year or Less

Overactive Imagination

leave a comment »

Total Black: $1,066.43
Total Red: $229,755.52

Today was a very long day.  And it started with a headache.  I woke about four times this morning, hitting snooze each time.  I had intended to get to the contract attorney position early—before a 10am shift at the theatre.  But that just didn’t happen.  It’s odd too because, as I noted in Bubbles Galore, the same thing happened last week: waking with a headache.  I wonder what the connection is between weekends and headaches.  This one was a doozy and didn’t get better until quite late.

Snoozing, I think, worsened my headache.  And the morning shift at the theatre exacerbated it even further.  I ushered at ImaginOcean, a new musical at New World Stages.  The entire show is performed in blacklight with the actors clothed entirely in black.  It’s a puppet show and the effect is amazing: you feel as if you’re watching a live-action cartoon.  The puppets just float in midair.  The plot takes three fish—all best friends—on an underwater adventure.  The show is geared for children, but adults would like it too—especially if they “relaxed” a bit beforehand.  One scene has the fish engaging their imaginations with one fish, Dorsal, the frightened hypochondriac, nervous about the ramifications of giving in too much to one’s imagination.  But once he faces his fears, and overcomes his anxiety, he realizes that what happened wasn’t nearly as bad as what he allowed himself to imagine could happen.  The point highlights the drawback to an overactive imagination.  Often what we imagine will happen—the worse-case scenarios we all dream up—are nothing like reality.

Adults too have overactive imaginations.  The message struck home with me and my overactive imagination about debt fears.  It’s a good show.  Unfortunately, the blacklight really made my eyes ache and I left feeling nauseous as I walked to the contract attorney job to put in a few hours.

Since it’s Easter weekend, the firm wanted to know our availability.  I can’t afford to visit my family since I already lost most of Sunday and this past Monday due to traveling out-of-town for the clerkship interview.  One whole day without work equates to about $700 lost.  So I wasn’t going anywhere and told them I was available to work.  And work I tried.  I suspect that much of this “chronic” pain is due to debt stress.  I noted as much back in Debt Most Physical.  My headache got so severe that at one point I took about an hour off from the four I had available to work that afternoon and laid myself down flat on a table to nap.  Then I raided the desk of the office manager for drugs and found Advil.  That worked.  Eventually.  And just in time too because I spent the afternoon playing co-host to a six-year-old girl’s Gazillion Bubble Show birthday party.

Yes, you too can have a birthday party with the Gazillion Bubble Show.  Come see the bubble show and then let us entertain you afterward.  We’ll cut your cake and do a little dance and sing happy birthday.  Ah . . . the things I’m doing to make ends meet.  One of my co-workers at the theatre reached out to me last week to ask if I’d be interested in working a birthday party.  Mostly it involved setting up the party—the table, the decorations, etc.—and then acting as a sort of hired host.  Serve the pizza, hand out the cake, and entertain the kids.  Well . . . I tried to keep myself busy with other tasks once that portion arrived.  It pays $50 for about three hours of work.  Not bad really.  The worst part: the mother brought all the decorations.  Everything was Hello Kitty.  The plates, the napkins, the tablecloth  and tiaras—yes, there were tiaras.  And yes I goofed around with one before the guests arrived.

I left the party to head usher Naked Boys Singing.  Yes, I find it odd to go from corralling children to corralling adults.  Children high on sugar; adults high on liquor.  Both jump up and down to what’s under the wrappings.  Ah . . . but let me digress from that analogy—fun though it may be.

I didn’t return to the contract attorney job once my shifts at the theatre finished.  I was just too tired tonight.  And I  figured, if I’m going to wake with headaches on the weekends, I might do something the night before and enjoy myself!  So Drunk Texter and the co-worked I dubbed the Leader in And More Jollification and I went out for drinks.  And, as always, Drunk Texter pretty much ignored me the entire time.  Leader had just been dumped so he was now interested in meeting guys and not so standoffish as prior nights.  But we hopped from one bar to the next like an antsy child who can’t sit still.  And just as we were moving on to bar number four—I opted to part company and return home.  See, we tossed around the idea of going to the club—the same referenced back in Jollification.  It’s only gay on Saturday nights.  But there’s a fairly step cover charge that none of us wanted to pay.  Of course, Drunk Texter deigned to talk with me as we walked towards the next bar, but only to say that I should pay the cover charge for all of us since I’m a lawyer.  He’s said things like that before too.  And at first I took the bait and read my lines, quipping, “Yeah, but what do I get in return.”  Half-joking, half-serious . . . but Drunk Texter didn’t play along.  Instead he responded, “Oh Joe.”  And his tone spoke volumes.  I’m really not interested in him any longer.  Now he represents a challenge.  Prey yet unconquered.  So stereotypically masculine of me, eh?

But tonight, I realized that I didn’t want to be around them any longer.  So I left and went home instead.  Drunk Texter eyes betrayed him a bit when he realized I really was leaving.  Or maybe that too was my overactive imagination?  Oh well.  Either way, I left and went back home.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: