Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Doctor, Lawyer, Indian Chief - Judge Me Not

Tuesday morning and I have a doctor's appointment. In Orlando. Siri tells me it is going to rain today, but she won't tell me when. That silicon brat. But I can see for myself that the sky is gray and overcast, and a drizzle is in my immediate future, to which I say, feh.

And then there was every social work attorney's nightmare ... you're shopping, or (like me) picking up a coffee in Wawa, and someone comes up to you and says, "you may not remember me, but you took my children away ..." Awkward, you say?  Oh jeez, is it ever - except I must have hit the lottery (which I never play) because while I was reciting mantras to quell the panic, she gave me a big smile and thanked me - all of us - for being tough on her.  She'd gotten her kids back rather quickly, and stated everything was going well because the experience had made her a better parent.

It could have been the one who followed me right into my parking lot after the trial that terminated her parental rights, or the one who stood up in court, pointed at my supervisor sitting next to me,  bellowed "blasphemer!" and became so belligerent we had to be escorted out the back door by a deputy, or even the nutty New Yorker who sort of threatened me, and the deputy escorted me right up to my front door. Instead, I got the normal one who worked her case plan, got her kids back, and stayed on track. Right away, my day was looking up. 

Then I got to my doctor's office and waited ... and waited ... and waited some more, because that's the way she rolls. If someone comes in for a 15 minute meds check, but has had a bad month and needs to discuss it extensively, the doctor will spend the necessary time.  It is what I both like and kind of dislike about her. She has always given me the time I need, and over the past 7 months I've had my share of lengthy appointments.  On the other hand, I never quite know when I'm getting out of here.  This was something of a problem when I was a working girl, but being retired I can afford to be expansive (although not in the psychiatric sense, which defines expansive as "marked by an abnormal euphoric state and by delusions of grandeur." My delusions are never of grandeur.)

A one hour wait, a 10 minute appointment, and I'm off to my favorite Publix, the one I shopped in for 23 years, for butternut squash and eggs and for some other stuff that wasn't on my list but jumped into my cart of its own volition.  Unfortunately, all this normalcy wore me out and I got home and crashed, really bad. You know the feeling, when you are utterly fatigued but a nap only makes you feel worse. Like sick to your stomach worse.

Somehow, hours later, I managed to make the gnocchi from the dough in the refrigerator, And stopped. No beef stew tonight folks. The gnocchi recipe is from the Pasta by Hand cookbook that I was raving about last week; this time I prepared the potato gnocchi with parmagiano-reggiano. I froze the uncooked gnocchi, but I definitely want to cook some tomorrow. You definitely need to add that book to your cookbook collection, if you have a cookbook collection, and if not, you should use this book to start a cookbook collection.

While reading today's Orlando Sentinel, I came across two separate articles about local judges in trouble with the Judicial Qualifications Committee (JQC) and/or the Florida Supreme Court; this is in addition to the charges filed against the one here in my county.  What is it about wanting to become a judge, or actually becoming a judge, that causes lawyers to behave so abominably? It doesn't have to be that way - I know many judges who remain ethical and honest while retaining their humanity. Of course I've had my share of sociopaths - every lawyer has. And that's not right, not right at all. What if we all gave in to our inner five year old and threw a tantrum in front of everybody in court?

Everything happens for a reason, and that likely extends to my illness and forced early retirement, because I realize that I've put up with enough judicial bullshit to last a lifetime, and that it was only a matter of time before I told one of them to gather up their petty ego, take off that ill-fitting black polyester robe, and get the hell down off the Bench before embarrassing it any further.

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