Liplovinman
who knows?
- Joined
- Sep 29, 2010
- Posts
- 5,154
“I wouldn’t do it again if you paid me!”
Staring at the papers in his hand, he spoke to his attorney on the phone. After 3 long years, his divorce was final. He’d reached an amicable settlement with his ex, only after her affairs had been documented and brought to light during some very brutal depositions. It did not seem real, though the heavy weight of the paper, sealed and signed, was one way to bring closure. He folded it, sealing it into a larger manilla envelope and sliding it into his upper desk drawer.
Ben Roth looked across his desk and out the window. The sun was just exiting from behind the clouds. What an awfully trite metaphor. But as the sun warmed his surrounding, he began to feel better, less encumbered. For all these years, the weight of the divorce was heavy around his neck, tied up his time and never left his mind clear. Where was he to focus his attentions now?
Checking his calendar, Ben pulled files and documents for his assorted appointments. The litany of diversity for the day lay out about him in color coded files, distilled into black and white pages. So very like his own document, that summed up three years of pain, following 6 years of marriage. Almost a decade lost, but he’d learned much about himself in that time.
He stacked the files in order, reviewing the first three. Over the next 4 hours, Ben would be up to his ears in taxes. He was happy to be on his own in practice, his hours were his own as was his workload. No one pushed him to get more done, be more productive, Ben set his own pace and that would make today of all days, move that much more quickly.
Staring at the papers in his hand, he spoke to his attorney on the phone. After 3 long years, his divorce was final. He’d reached an amicable settlement with his ex, only after her affairs had been documented and brought to light during some very brutal depositions. It did not seem real, though the heavy weight of the paper, sealed and signed, was one way to bring closure. He folded it, sealing it into a larger manilla envelope and sliding it into his upper desk drawer.
Ben Roth looked across his desk and out the window. The sun was just exiting from behind the clouds. What an awfully trite metaphor. But as the sun warmed his surrounding, he began to feel better, less encumbered. For all these years, the weight of the divorce was heavy around his neck, tied up his time and never left his mind clear. Where was he to focus his attentions now?
Checking his calendar, Ben pulled files and documents for his assorted appointments. The litany of diversity for the day lay out about him in color coded files, distilled into black and white pages. So very like his own document, that summed up three years of pain, following 6 years of marriage. Almost a decade lost, but he’d learned much about himself in that time.
He stacked the files in order, reviewing the first three. Over the next 4 hours, Ben would be up to his ears in taxes. He was happy to be on his own in practice, his hours were his own as was his workload. No one pushed him to get more done, be more productive, Ben set his own pace and that would make today of all days, move that much more quickly.
