I had a difficult time today.
I tried a case against a woman who had no attorney. She didn’t do a very good job of presenting her side of the story, but the judge obliged her by asking all the questions her attorney would have normally asked. You might say that wasn’t fair; but the judge wanted to know the whole story and didn’t want to be deprived of any facts just because the woman chose not to hire an attorney.
My client got one or two dates wrong and I found myself questioning whether I had done a good job, even though I knew that I had prepared, presented documents, drew my client’s narrative out, and generally covered all the points that the judge needed to hear. It’s a tough case, though; and I cannot be sure of the outcome even now. It’s been taken under advisement and it’s a waiting game.
Afterwards, I found myself kicking myself around the corner. I thought of a half dozen things that I could have done that I didn’t do. Of course, hindsight is always 20/20; and I’m always hard on myself; and I win more than I lose. But that never stops me from raking myself over the coals.
I realized, when the long evening of analyzing the case finally wound down, that I had spent most of the evening complaining about myself.
Funny, right? Ironic, at least: My year of not complaining sags under the weight of my self-criticism. That’s one for the books.