It's Just Lunch

A new person named Perky Paula has taken over for Jeepers and she commutes all the way into the city from Petaluma (which is far away, for the non-CA people).

When I was in high school I was friends with a girl whose name was also Greane and the closer we got, the better I got at knowing when I'd be able to reach her at home. At the time I thought it was magic, but as I grew up, realized the more you pay attention to the things people tell you about themselves, the better idea you'll have of where they'll be.

Perky Paula has no concept of timing. She will come by my desk, see me on the phone, working on a document, with two partners standing over me - each asking about a different client naturally, and still try to bullshit with me. I don't know whether or not I'm right, but I feel like that reflects badly on me. Like the lawyers are thinking, "Geez Green, tell your little friend to run along already - why are you hanging out with someone who's got no sense of timing?"

A few times Perky Paula has asked me to lunch. I don't want to go with her. I bitched about this to a friend, and she encouraged me to suck it up and just go to lunch. She said it won't take very long (an hour, obviously) and will mean a lot to Perky Paula.

She's right. I know she's right. It just seems ... I don't like Paula. There's nothing *wrong* with her, but we don't click. I don't know why she's picked me to befriend. Why not the secretly pregnant secretary? Or the really cool associate who's super easy to talk with? Or the quiet, helpful Asian secretary who is the only person to be able to deal with Bitch on Wheels? She just has so many options! How did I get chosen?

When I look at Perky Paula I see someone who has many cats and talk with them as she watches television. I see someone who inspires neighbors to plan when they'll get their mail so they won't run into her, lest they get roped into a long conversation with Paula.

Also it seems living in San Francisco has turned me into a tiny bit of a food snob. A food snob in training, if you will. First Perky Paula suggested we go to The Cosmopolitan for lunch. I know like four people who've gotten food poisoning there. So I let Paula know that, and suggested we come up with somewhere else. She then suggested "an Italian place" that I am telling you, is *NOT* real Italian food. It's a place where you can order a sub and chips (I don't eat subs) and they also have spaghetti.

Is Petaluma considered part of the Bay Area? Since moving here I've never met anyone who's less snobby about food than I am, but Paula's changing everything.

Paula makes me feel comfortable standing up and saying, "Hi, my name is Green and I LIKE Kraft Macaroni & Cheese!" Christ.

Today Was a Bad Day & I Didn't Have My AK

Jeepers is gone. I'm not upset that she's gone, but that we don't know why. Nobody's talking, but I'm pretty sure the butler did it with the rolling pin in the cellar. I have been listing on Craigslist and trotting to the post office on my lunch hours to get rid of stuff lately.

One of my biggest learning disabilities is my terrible memory, and lately it's been more terrible than usual. I am blanking on everything, which is bad to do when you're talking to attorneys. The people I work with bill out at over $500 an hour - time really IS money, and they don't want to stand around while you search your brain for a word.

This law firm doesn't have the notepads I like to use, which sounds like a small thing, but seriously, if you were a kindergarten teacher and had no red pen, or a doctor who had the wrong brand stethoscope, or a cook with bad pots and pans, you'd understand. I am tempted to bring in my own from home.

In all fairness, since moving here, I have been pretty lucky about getting nice attorneys. In Florida I worked for guys who scratched their balls daily and spit food when they talked, called me by their wives names, and screamed and threw things. All in one day. It was not unusual to find me crying in my car during my lunch hour then.

And I can't forget working for Remy, who got in a huge fight with his girlfriend, and how he put me in the middle, having me lie for him when she'd call. Oh, and when he had porn mailed to him at work, and I had to open his mail. That was fun too.

But Tuna and Nice Partner? They were mostly great. Which is why yesterday when I got an attitude from a partner I wasn't prepared.

This woman had three different attorneys (two of whom are partners) helping her get a filing ready. An attorney I work for came to me and asked me to edit one pleading and send the other one to Word Processing for them to work on. I did. Then Bitch On Wheels (hereafter referred to as "BOW") comes over to my desk later, and without introducing herself (we've never met), she demands to know what I'm doing. I had not been told the filing was yesterday. I did not know there were more than the two pleadings I was working on. And, I am having my ridiculous memory problems, so intense that I can look at a pleading that says, "Verified Answer" but by the time I look up at BOW my brain is empty and all I can do is gesture at what's in my hand.

BOW: Why are you working on this?!
GY: Because Lesbian Senior Counsel told me to.
BOW: Well where's [other pleading]?
GY: LSC told me to send it to Word Processing, so I did.
BOW: There are like, two changes (more like 50, all formatting, which are more difficult to make than straight edits). You make these changes. Give me that - I'll have [my secretary] do these. Call Word Processing and tell them to stop immediately.

All of this was yelled at me. Now. Logically, I *know* with all my heart and soul that this woman truly is a bitch. And every single person who heard I had to deal with BOW confirmed it. But emotionally? I was not prepared to be spoken to so harshly, and had to resist the urge to cry. I was proud of myself that I didn't - that I got angry. But still. If I had my way, I'd never deal with her again.

Even though this happened yesterday, all the bad feelings about it carried over into today. The secretary who sits next to me is secretly pregnant - she is clearly with child, yet does not talk about it to me, or anyone. I am slightly amused, and wonder if in 20 weeks, she'll be sitting there breathing funny, yet still not saying anything. She seems to want to be left alone to do her own thing, so I don't want to bother her with my questions.

I needed various supplies throughout the day, and I came to find out that there is no ONE place where all supplies are kept. Redwelds are kept in one place, reams of paper in another, envelopes somewhere else, and post-its in yet another. This is ridiculous. The firm has the entire floor. Empty out ONE office, and turn it into a supply room. Put the file cabinets that house exhibit tabs outside of that office, and call it a day. I should not have to do a lap around the entire floor to get three office supplies.

I am not being given all the information I need to do my job. When I ask my attorneys questions, they are tossing issues back at me saying things like, "Yeah, you're going to have to look into that." Okay, hello? I don't look into things like that. I'm not one of those "that's not my job" people, except when not only isn't it my job, but it's also not something I'm capable of doing. It's not my job to look up court procedures to find out if when e-filing a document you still need to include a proof of service even though you don't have to serve the opposing side (I think you don't).

And really, they should not trust me to do that. Improper service is an easy way to get something thrown out. They should be giving me a pleading and telling me who gets served. They should not be telling me to make changes to a document and then send it to Alex. Who the fuck is Alex? I'm NEW! If the name Alex is not on the firm directory, don't expect I'll get it done - you didn't give me enough information.

I know all this shit is just learning curve crap. But my ability to learn is so very fucked up, and I have absolutely no patience for it, since I have no concept of how long it SHOULD take me to learn things. My worry over how long it DOES take overrides any and all realistic expectations others may have for me.

You know when you're just in a raging bad mood? That's me now.

Jeepers

Jeepers is the name of another secretary here who's also temping. She's a grandma, from Chicago, and a huge fan of saying jeepers. Oh, and touching people. Like me. In the last two days she's touched me three times, and we don't even sit near each other or have any reason to interact. Today she was wearing a pin-striped jacket with a polka-dot blouse. If you know me, you know I do love me some polka-dots, but this does not look good. And it's not the old, "No mixing two different patterns" rule, because we all know Stacey and Clinton would say that's fine. It's more like she took a fashion risk, and just ... missed. I see where she was trying to go, but she got off the fashion highway one dressing room too early.

Please do not think me petty - I don't dislike her just because she spit white rice onto my desk while talking at me and eating leftover sushi at the same time. It's not because she's outgoing. Trixie is outgoing, and we got along just fine (we run into each other about once a week, and chat pleasantly). No, I dislike her because despite the positive attitude, her words are negative. You can't fool me with your smiles and upbeat demeanor. You're eating sushi rolls the firm brought in, spitting rice at me, and complaining that it tastes bad while laughing? Jeepers, it's three days old! I don't eat sushi but I'm thinking three day-old sushi is not going to taste good.

One of my favorite movies is The Last Boy Scout. There are two lines in that movie that stand out above the others. One is, "I want to meet the bitch who fucked you up." The other one, the one that applies in this situation of rice-spitting and bitching is, "Shut the fuck up and get back in your monkey cage," or something like that.

I always have the urge (always since last week when I met Jeepers) to tell Jeepers to get back in her monkey cage. Everyone where I work is so damn nice that I don't even have it in me to sic her on someone else. "Hey Jeepers, I think Amelia was looking for you a while ago," I could say, if only I hated Amelia. But no, Amelia says hi to me every day and is quiet but sweet.

Jeepers doesn't seem to like it here much. It's not the people, but the work - I think she's dealing with a boring kind of law. Or at least, a type of law she finds boring. Jeepers told me she interviewed at a big law firm last week, but she wasn't impressed. She sits right near one of the attorneys I work for, and in the same breath that she said he's nice, also complained that he doesn't talk to her very much. This is a guy who bills at over $500 per hour. Perhaps he's a bit busy?

I think, like me, he doesn't want to get into a conversation with her, because he's worried about being able to extract himself from it. Jeepers works for one attorney who does a lot of her own work and spends a lot of time out of the office. So she's often roaming the halls, looking to see what other people are doing. I hope she finds something good down there by the supply room. I hear a lot of fun stuff goes on there. Not.

*Exciting new development (that fills me with dread)! Jeepers just sent me an e-mail asking if I'd care to do lunch sometime. Actually, no I wouldn't. Great. Now I have to avoid her until I figure out how to very nicely say that.