not every milonga can have a perfect tanda... and a stab at an actual workweek




The malaise of holidaze lingers everywhere, really. I suspect that January will simply be a wash, but fortunately it is nearly done and I have good thoughts for February. 


This January's milonga is an instance of the sad truth that not every milonga can have a perfect tanda. Or feel quite as personally rewarding as they often do. The cards were simply stacked against such things occurring, I suppose. For one, we had a guest dj this month. I strongly support having guests and I mean no malign against her playlists (since I left early, I couldn't even fairly comment!),but I'll admit to feeling far less of an obligation to stick around or mentally get excited about the milonga when I'm not putting together my perfect playlist. It may also interfere with my plans to reserve partners for said perfect tandas.Then there was the fact that between residual winter vacations, the snow storm, and The Port Townsend Tango Festival, the attendance list whittled itself down to a bare minimum. And as a coup de grace, not only was I under malaise, but I also acquired a migraine earlier than day, which persisted well into the evening. 


My migraines are fairly mild, rarely manifesting in the knock-out pain that many experience. I didn't even realize until a few years ago that they were migraines - it's mostly manifested in the aura, in which noises feel echoey, light reverberates about my corneas, and I feel spacey and dizzy. Which is not an ideal way to dance, since doing many turns - or even a few - with one's eyes closed is already slightly dizzying, and I have a very difficult time keeping my eyes open in close embrace. Particularly when the lights are not down that low for whatever reason and any light caught peripherally makes me dizzy as well. I was doing pretty well staying on axis while dancing, particularly (again with the particularly, I know!) in shoes that are too beautiful to chuck but which actually don't fit in the heel very well. But walking off the floor belied the addled state my head was in.





Or maybe my own outfit was the culprit for the dizzies. I've always been proud of how these socks complement each other. I also wore a bright purple sports bra under a slightly low cut top (take that perpetual wardrobe malfunction that is my life!) and a pair of earrings that are particularly pretty and apropos to such an event (ordinarily):




Alas, all my finery could not retrieve an evening destined to fail and I feel a bit like I did on Halloween where I used my totally awesome Elvis costume to go to a party that wasn't much fun and left early. Yes, I'm planning on reusing it again in that case because almost nobody saw it (and you wondered why there were no Halloween pictures... never waste a good outfit).


I hate being so blase, but I virtually abandoned our lesson, which somewhat disjointed due to the fact that there was one complete beginner, one near beginner and a handful of regulars. This means the class was essentially moving too fast for the one beginner and terribly slow for almost every one else. It's an orientation class so it should have been moving more slowly with technique for the more advanced dancers. I ordinarily leap in and try to regulate this balance, but I just didn't have the energy. It may have been the worst class I've taught (or didn't teach) in a good deal of time. 


There were a few good dances, mostly with Mr. (W)right and mostly good because I spent the tanda biting his ear or otherwise harassing him, dipping myself, and not trying to dance upright. For "serious" (I'm never all that serious but sometimes I stumble into a reverie or two) dancing, I had two tandas that worked for me: one with a favorite student/practice partner of mine, and one with my Harry Potter partner, who is as always a surprisingly sweet and smooth dancer. I am not familiar enough with him that I will seek out dancing with him when I'm not on my game - I don't want to ruin the positive impression and we're not at the unconditional connection stage in our dance relationship. But he asked me to dance and I could hardly turn him down. I warned him I was feeling lightheaded but we managed quite well. It was not pure tango ecstasy as I really was feeling dizzy and slightly distracted, but it broke through the blarg into at least a very nice. 




Beyond tango: We're  in my first official workweek of 2012 after a lot of dalliances and inconveniences and days off and the office is feeling the crunch. I am as well in oddly ambivalent modes that are becoming familiar to me. I go back and forth between feeling excited to have three whole clients, a number of files to work through, and a whole 'nother consult just next week(!!) and feeling discouraged that I only have three clients and every one else in the office has soooo much more work to do.. It's all perspective and which expectations I am holding myself up against, at this stage in the new-lawyer process. 






There's a part of me that is discouraged at how few consultations I am getting and is wondering if I should be out there more or lowering my rates or... well I don't know exactly, because ultimately most referrals are inevitably word of mouth and nobody really has enough experience with me as an attorney to be spreading that word. And, while occasionally we do get the "I need an attorney" people calling in, most of the time, people call here - to the Law Offices of Pamela E. Englett - because they want Pamela E Englett (and I don't blame them - she's pretty damned good!). The other part of me feels like I am getting a boatload of valuable learning experiences working with and for my mom's official clients and wading into the full fiduciary boatload is a fantastic approach. 


There's a part of me that feels like I should have already made any kind of negotiations with other parties, or gone in front of a commissioner or two by now, or just generally be able to do what I'm doing now much faster and more cleanly! Aaaand there's a part that is just totally thrilled at the fact that I can draft set of papers without having to call the Crisis Hotline or locate my security blankie and give fairly decent advice when clients ask. There's a part of me that feels exhausted trying to generate work when every one else is already so in the habit of keeping it for themselves that they don't even realize they're overburdened and I am not. And a part of me that's proud of days l where I scalp a load of it and rush through it, while simultaneously updating case status sheets and reminding people of various case issues and - joy of joys - maybe doing some legal research which is so totally my area


So, I waffle (Wafflebot HATES PANCAKES!!). Inevitably sometimes feel liike Superlawyer and sometimes feel like lame-o-loafer-lawyer leaching off her mother's goodwill despite my astoundingly excellent credentials. Comes with the territory, I guess. Not that I, as an attorney, am not supposed to embrace my bloodsucking instincts, but I think I would be turning them in the wrong direction at that point. It's at least a comfort in my less optimistic moments that I know all too well that it is only one way of looking at things. And it is even more of a comfort that many times I have felt such anxiety and told myself to just be patient with myself and things have indeed worked out. In hte meantime, I will continue to boggle at the idea that any one would let me have the sort of full on fiduciary duties that I have yet to fully flex on behalf of another human being. It's as if they didn't get the memo about my being a child in disguise as as professional. 


Your honor, my client has no memory of the bananas to which
respondent refers!

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