I should’ve been a lawyer. Over 500 quid per hour, the one I’m talking to. I’ve been trying to make progress on something that has eluded me for over 15 years. My dad rather optimistically allowed himself to believe that everyone wouldn’t start dropping like flies when he died. When they all did, it left my brother Max and I in total confusion and grieving. It’s many years though now since the dominos started falling. I’m over it now mostly, even if this is a tricky week. But I still didn’t really know where to start untangling a mess that has lain dormant for so long.
So, after looking at it from all angles, I just … started somewhere. And after a while I engaged an expensive lawyer because there’s too much I don’t understand and it was her firm that my dad was working with. It’s a move which I’m hoping I don’t come to regret as it turns out she doesn’t understand either – or she’s pretending not to for profit. She just sent me a very expensive three page email. Her email asks all the questions I couldn’t answer that led to me engaging them in the first place. It ends with “our fees will be higher than we originally estimated.” And her original estimate blew the doors off so there goes my kidney. I’m hoping this doesn’t turn into Jarndyce Vs Jarndyce or I’m going to have to sell Pickle for glue.
When I was at school we did a workshop day for a major law firm. My team did really well and afterwards I was asked to an assessment day. I didn’t want to go. I knew back then I was an actor. So I refused the opportunity and didn’t tell my mum, knowing that she’d have forced me. So that door closed leaving me free to dream the impossible dream. I’m still okay with that, teenage Al. But £545 an hour, teenage Al??? Just to have specialist knowledge, dress up smart and invent problems? Easy life.
Tomorrow I’ll be helping run one of those assessment days – at a major law firm – for about a quarter of an hour’s worth of that fee for my whole day. It’ll be the third year I’ve been involved, and it’s always a lovely day. But by now I reckon the kids from the first year that did well will be earning more per annum than I’ve seen in a decade. Still, they don’t get to sleep at the top of Carnaby Street in a caravan…
I’m going to get an early bed. Yesterday’s malaise – it turns out I was getting sick. My unconscious was trying to tell my conscious that something was wrong. So it gave me the screaming habdabs all day and sent me to bed thinking to world was ending. I woke up coughing and howling and Brian brought me a lemsip. Then I dayjobbed the morning and passed out all afternoon. I was meant to be doing Macbeth rehearsals but my body just needed to sleep. Now it’s half eight, I just cooked a lovely aubergine and white fish madras. I’m going to drug myself to sleep so I’m fresh for the lawyers tomorrow.