A Happy, Happy New Year

Tuesday, 6 January 2009, 7:17 a.m., Fourth Division, Sandiganbayan.

The hallway is quiet, still a little dim.   A utility personnel passes by and greets me good morning.  I see that I’m the first one in court.

Three hours later, tired, I lagged myself back to the office.  It’s the first week of the year and I can’t believe I’ve just been to court!  I feel like singing Bugs Bunny – “Oh bury me now…under the prairie…!”

Fresh from the holidays, in good peaceful spirits, I somehow imagined that I’d be welcoming the new work year with more or less the same affable attitude.   But someone has filed a pleading and the court, seeming to have made diligence part of its new year’s resolution, quickly acted on it that I suddenly found myself dressed in my court attire, donning my court face.  

Don’t get me wrong, i love dressing up.  I enjoy fashion.  I have a haberdasher that regularly brings me cloths and two (2) seamstress with whom I enjoy collaborating with.  Suits are my work gear and, fortunately, they suit my built as well (i.e., they hide my unmentionables).  But there’s an attitude that goes with wearing suits.  Ramrod straight back, hair tied back in a bun, sure even strides, moderate voice, calculated moves.  Along with the black handbag (my black Coach bowling bag is my current favorite), the black pumps (dependable Enzos), and the South Sea Pearl earrings, suits exude power.  Authority and confidence written all over.  It signals me that I should prepare for business and assures me that I am.   

Ricky saw me this morning and asked “Mommy, are you going to a court battle?”  Suits are my armor.  I can have a shouting match with the best of them counsels and verbal assaults will just bounce off me.  I am afterall wearing a Zara blazer (or yari ni Manang Sara ;p).  Suits are my chosen outfit for any adversarial proceeding…

And it is just soo stressful.

Hindi siya masaya.  Not for this new year. 

Wearing them this early in the year saddens me, tires me out.  Blazers with those thick pads are already heavy to begin with, but the work associated with them makes it an even heavier burden. 

My director hands me a pile of transcripts from a previous hearing.  Opposing counsel did something foul, he directs me to fiercely oppose his every move.

I tell him, “How can I kick ass when love is in the air?” ;p

I feel that my maternal instincts have somehow blunted my razorsharp tongue.  All fight gone from me.  I feel very protective.  “Can I give the accused a hug instead?”  (Never mind that he has stolen millions of pesos in public funds ;p )

The air is cold.  To my mind, it is still the holidays.  Peace, prosperity and love for all mankind…Lea Salonga’s singing in my head.  Surely it’s not nice to start the new year “kicking ass”!?!  Can we not talk about it over a cup of coffee?

Director smiles, I smile.  We both know it won’t happen.  I’m simply being delusional. 

And so, once again, I wore my black blazer and donned my court face…

in this HAPPY, HAPPY New Year!