When a four week trial settles on its second day, there are, to paraphrase Joker, a lot of little emotions to savor. The client's happiness in receiving an award and recognition without having to go through the hassle of a whole trial.
The jury's evident confusion about being brought in, instructed about their important and complicated role, and then being told that they can now go home, having done nothing but listen to some promises about what they were going to hear, and then taking a lunch break. The sadness of London news stalwart Nick Paparella, hanging out all day and having nothing to report.
The palpable rage of an old man tasked with presiding over a case that probably should've settled long ago. The humility of defense counsel, chewed out for being too argumentative in his opening statement.
The shock from plaintiff's counsel, reeling from the old man's admissibility ruling that painted the trial's potential in sombre shades vastly different from the vivid technicolour in which we had previously been viewing it.
But all of this pales in comparison to the emotions I'm feeling. I'm happy that the client is happy. I'm entertained by the way settlement rumours float around the office. I'm disappointed that I don't have a trial to drop in on for the next four weeks.
And I'm stoked that I don't have to finish all the assignments I was working on for this file.