I recently discussed how I was going on vacation for the first time in what seems like forever. Last year I took a long weekend to go to a family vacation place and that was my first pseudo vacation in 18+ months. I hardly ever take sick days and personal days are a thing that I hear about from my non-lawyer friends…in other words, I am a dependable drone that will show up at the office even if I am harboring homicidal tendencies towards clients, my opposing counsel or my printer. I will also show up at the office even if I am harboring homicidal contagions. Dependable drone yes, but you have to take the good with the bad, and should the drone revolution just happen to start with me, who am I to stand in the way of progress?
Of course, a deadly plague wiping out everyone who makes a long vacation necessary is as unlikely as my blood pressure remaining in a healthy range while watching a Bulls game. So this year I am flipping the script and taking a real motherfucking vacation. In the go big or go home vein, I am packing up everything, grabbing the significant other and heading south. To Mexico. Away from the city of Chicago for eight work days. Chicago, not to disparage your beaches too much, but Mexico's are sunnier, the water cleaner, and drug gangs notwithstanding, there are significantly fewer shootings.
Eight workdays seems like an eternity away from the office. Eight days without cell reception while away from the office seems like an eternity in paradise. Those eight days cannot get here quickly enough. I started planning for this trip months ago by subtly rearranging future court dates, depositions and potential trials:
Judge: “How does May 18th work for you counselors?”
Opposing Counsel: “That date works just fine f….”
Me: “NO! Absolutely not!!! I am going on vacation!!!”
Once the judge and opposing counsel realized that I was serious about not scheduling a hearing date on an off day, they relented. It’s not like I had a depraved look in my eye or I started to twitch in open court or anything. No. Of course nothing like that. As that would be weird. In all seriousness though, leaving the office for eight days is going to be a revelation for me as it marks the first time that I will have intentionally taken more than three consecutive days off work since my second year of law school.
Since the planning has been ongoing for the better part of three months, I am confident that I will be able to open a wide enough berth in my litigation schedule to accommodate for this upcoming lack of work. What worries me is that my partners (the ones who will be supervising my clients and cases in my stead) will find some way to screw up all the hard work that I have (or will have) done. But that truly doesn’t matter. There will be no chance in hell that I will leave Mexico early to return to the office… I don’t care if there is the threat of imminent malpractice, disbarment proceedings or Antonin Scalia just stopped by to have a word with his favorite Namby Pamby Litigator. Okay, maybe, mayyyyyyybeeeeee just maybe I would be willing to leave my vacation early if Justice Scalia were to come a calling. But only him, and only if he weren't able to come down to Mexico instead.
Eight days away from the phone, the office staff, the co-workers, the partners and the clients. Eight days or 192 billable hours or 11,520 minutes or 691,200 seconds of self-centered bliss await me but I just have to get there first.
[Read more from The Namby Pamby]
