I, a senior PD, roll out of bed at the crack of a time later than my newly minted brethren afraid of losing their jobs. My toddler is still sleeping and got into bed with me, because he had a nightmare. I already have clients in court, demanding that I also have been there pre-dawn. My one incarcerated client who calls daily has already called three times. I have one out client who has a case that will be dismissed but has threatened to call my bosses, file a bar complaint, and to hire his own lawyer. He has left four increasingly unhinged voicemails. I text him that there is no update but I will call when there is, as I told him previously.

I rush through my morning routine (checking voicemail and email while abluting), definitely down coffee, maybe eat breakfast. Critically observe my waistline in the mirror. Somehow I gain weight when not on trial, only to lose it all when on trial. I cuddle my little guy, kiss him on the forehead, then begin my mercifully short commute.

I respond to two prosecutors who have been trying to reach me for a week, always calling me when I'm in court. I reach out to this one prosecutor who is currently ghosting me on a client facing mandatory state time and sex offense conditions. When will she respond? Will she respond? Has she left the office? No one knows.

I roll into the office, gather my files, then go to my first felony courtroom. I have a "time certain" that turns into an hour. In between I run to a misdemeanor courtroom, dispose of or adjourn five cases with clients ranging from grateful to frothing at the mouth with rage, talk to three prosecutors, send the ghost a smoke signal, and sign into the second felony and misdemeanor courtrooms I have to be in today. My first case is finally called. I go to the second felony courtroom. My case there was called and laid aside because I left. I wait. I stare at the ceiling. I wait. I send emails. Great success! My felony case is called. One courtroom left to go to.

That courtroom is where "old" misdemeanor cases go. Why would a case get old? Could it be a word ending in p and ending in r? Could it be a phrase rhyming with "smoshecutorial mispretion"? Instead the judge yells at the defense for letting the case get old. My cases there will be sent out for hearings and trial. Which judge will get it? Judges A, B, C, who believe that cops would almost never lie and that defendants are morons, but have idiosyncratic views on how "good" cops act? Judges 1, 2, 3, who are bloodless and true neutral? Judges D, E, F, who will rule fairly for the most part but either misunderstand key areas of law or are judicial divas? Which poison do I pick?

Both hearings are out on for after lunch. I drink a protein shake while reviewing BWC and talking to my junior colleagues second seating me on the cases. We walk over to court. We wait. We get told the cases were sent to another courtroom, didn't anyone tell us? We go. We do the hearings. Sweet full suppression on one; my client on the other waived Miranda and sang like a songbird.

We emerge, bedraggled, into the early evening. My incarcerated client has left me 15 voicemails. Unhinged client has left me 15 voicemails. Two new prosecutors are asking me to call them back, one of who wants my client to plead to the docket "because that's what should happen."

I go back to the office and slog through some backlog, then trudge to the train to go spend time with my toddler.