Everyone is looking for answers these days. At work, the clients are constantly calling with questions. They expect me to be able to answer real brain-scratchers, like, “why did the court lose my completion certificate?” and “when is the attorney going to be back?” My answer, of course, is “HOW THE HECK SHOULD I KNOW???” Naturally, I can’t say that without risking my job. And I hate settling for “I don’t know.” But the thing is, I don’t have timers attached to my attorneys telling me when they’ll be back from wherever they disappeared to. (Attorneys are like mystical creatures who appear out of nowhere and disappear again as quick as a flash!) I also don’t have spy cameras in the court clerk’s office, showing me every single document they handle and what they do with it. So what do you want me to say??? Stop making me say “I don’t know” because I DESPISE saying that sentence.
I also am not a fan of knowing the answer to a question and being forced to answer that I don’t know because of a little thing called Unauthorized Practice of Law (UPL).
Just now, a potential client called about a license issue and said the words I dread hearing: “Why don’t you just tell me, based on your experience and your knowledge.” I wanted to tell him that it didn’t matter if the ticket had the wrong phone number on it or his name was misspelled or if his car is really a 4-door non-hatchback and the officer wrote “hatchback” on the ticket. I wanted to tell him that he sounded drunk and shouldn’t be calling me anyway and to stop rambling like an idiot. But instead I politely told him that I am legally prohibited from providing him with legal advice because I’m not an attorney. Then he asked me when the attorney would call him back… we went over the mystical creature theory, right?
Did I just write a post purely to complain about work? Well, it started that way. I had a nice little half an essay on serious stuff, like faith and self-confidence and growing up. But there was no acceptable transition into it. BUT I used the word “matriculate.” So, just because it was kind of nifty and a very touching story about how wonderful a person I am, I’m going to re-write that bit:
“I cried this morning over an Iams commercial. They were talking about how the cat was special because he’d helped pull the autistic little boy gradually from out of his world and help him matriculate into our own. (My vocabulary gets more exciting when I can’t use swear words.)”
Oh yes, be impressed.
I also had a bunch of stuff that was supposed to lead up to me talking about having to go to church this weekend. It just didn’t work. So here it is: I have to go to church this weekend. (Oh, I also revealed Mr. S’s real name to be Tom and confessed it was driving me nuts to type “Mr. S.” every time.) And this will be my first time in a church since my wedding day. Over three months ago. And I was thinking “oooh, Advent! That’s when they have all that nice-smelling incense!” And then I remembered. Nope. That’s Lent. Darn it. But the weekend shall be interesting, I suppose. And I shall provide updates!