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By: Jamie Collins
Since turning 38, I’ve come to several realizations in the passing days, the most important of which, so far, is this: You may immediately lose control of your fine motor skills in the early a.m., while getting ready for a day of paralegal-miracle-working in the legal mines, which MAY or may not result in you stabbing yourself in the eye with a foreign object. (Hereinafter referred to as “the incident.”)
I tell no lies, people. See Exhibit A below.
EXHIBIT A:
“THE DEVIL”
(The only thing being “double extended” was my pain.)
Fellas: I know you cannot fully comprehend this, but please liken it to the day when you inadvertently lose control of your fine motor skills and slice half your face off while shaving with a razor. You’ve done it a million times – no problem. But the day of reckoning arrives, you cut yourself, and feel like an idiot. You with me now? Moving on…
With regard to “the incident,” please consider the following facts to be brutal truths:
One: Do not pretend for one single solitary second that the white side of the double sided mascara tube is ANY less painful than the black one, in the event you decide to jam said white end of the tube into your left eyeball, people. The white bristles are no less forgiving than the black ones, I assure you.
Two: Rumor has it you may win an Emmy for best portrayal of an overly-dramatic person attempting to explain to an 8-year-old boy what in the hell just happened.
Three: Your 8-year-old may fail to recognize the seriousness of the situation (despite your best portrayal, Emmy win, and screaming outburst) when “the incident” occurs and will only stare at you blankly through clueless eyes, as though you are the weirdest person on the planet, as though he has absolutely no idea what is happening right now or why in the heck his mommy is now rocking back and forth in front of the bedroom mirror, while attempting to fend off internal swear words, cupping her hand over her left eye, tears streaming all the while (like an epic monsoon) contorted into a seated version of the fetal position, highly-agitated, half blind, semi-make-up’d, and fully-pained.
Four: That thin, black line you so carefully drew across the top of your left eyelid immediately prior to “the incident?” ha ha ha. ‘Tis gone. Begin anew, my friend. Any and all prior make-up application efforts shall be rendered a complete and utter waste of el-timo on the part of said (formerly) savvy make-up applying paralegal-o, who apparently now possesses a total lack of hand-eye coordination, common sense and/or make-up application skills. This = true.
Best of luck. And don’t forget to start rushing to reapply like a fool with a departure deadline. Because there is one. (Time’s a ticking!)
Five: Upon reporting to the office on the morning of “the incident,” expect your boss to be brutally honest after hearing about “the incident,” at which time he MAY choose (entirely too honestly) to tell you, “Oh yeah, that one? (pointing) Your left one? Your eye is actually all swollen at the top and has a little black mark under it. I can tell.” (Thank you kindly for your facial assessment, verbal feedback, make-up application critique, and brutal honesty with regard to “the incident,” dear Commander of the legal squadron. Duly noted.)
Six: Yes, this is apparently the way 38-year-old people now report for a day of legal duty following “the incident.”
Seven: It. Is. Not. Good.
Eight: Upon speaking with caring coworkers, advise them there is no way you’re going to bother seeing a doctor as a result of “the incident,” even though vision is still a wee bit blurry after having jammed said white bristled brush into your left eye with great force this morning, because in the event your cornea/retina/any other eye parts you do not readily know the name of right now, were actually scratched – all the doctor would do is give you (the savvy paralegal person with a problem) a freaking pirate patch anyway.
Note to Paralegals: In the event said savvy paralegal should require a pirate patch (lord help us all), she is a resourceful paralegal and would skillfully design her own, using a Post-It note and several rubber bands tied together, to craft some sort of a cutting-edge-weirdo-paralegal-pirate-mask to amuse the legal masses.
p.s. No way in hell was the Founder putting a less than flattering picture of herself dawning a pirate mask with a swollen eye on the internet, so you get this one featuring a fabulous makeshift model, instead – my intern, John Doe. (Fun interns = yes). See Exhibit B below.
EXHIBIT B:
Nine: Stop laughing.
Ten: And wondering if that would actually work. (The answer is yes. I am a creative genius, people, albeit one with only partial eyesight.)
Eleven: Make a mental note to begin paying a wee bit more attention when applying said double-sided mascara tomorrow. Mentally prepare to perch yourself before the mirror with a make-up wand in hand and a great deal of general F-O-C-U-S all ’round.
Twelve: If you are a wildly clever blogger person involved in an incident such as the one outlined above, choose to write and share a blog post publicly regarding “the incident” as a means for dealing with the recent uptick in your age, swift loss of your faculties, and departure of sanity.
Heed my warning: If you are 38 or older: proceed carefully, people. Approach those bristled brushes from hell-oooo my paralegal friends with a great deal of caution in the future. Forget the Emmy. Drop the pirate patch. And F-O-C-U-S.
That is all.
Sincerely,
The Half-Blind Founder
With sense of humor still intact.
(and a pirate patch)
The Paralegal Society™ 
I am sorry to hear about the “incident.” I cannot say that I’ve yet to experience that torture (and at 48, I probably have more issues with my fine motor skills), but it may be because I only use mascara with one wand. ;0)
Bob here – I believe it is not the advancing age that is the culprit of this incident but the fact that paralegals, legal secretaries and anyone involved in the legal arena (legal gladiators), lol, multitask. Repeat after me no multitasking when handling sharp objects i.e. mascara wands, curling irons, razors, toothbrushes (don’t ask) and any other assorted deadly weapons used to make oneself clean, neat and presentable to go out and slay the legal dragons. This applies to all genders. So with that knowledge in hand head out whether bleary eyed or not, this too shall pass and we can do this with one eye or two sometimes with our eyes shut. Have an awesome day.
I can relate to and feel your pain. As a young boy growing up in Evansville, there was a “manly” game called (Mumlepeg) and it required only one favorite pocket-knife in your right-front jeans pocket. The strategy of the game was to fling the open knife toward the ground and stick in within close proximity of the other player’s foot. The knife must stick into the ground. The player who just had the knife stick into the ground, must keep his other foot stationary and the move the other foot next to the knife. The strategy here is simple, try to successfully space the knife throws into the ground, requiring your opponent to stretch and stretch to the point that they are imitating a cheerleader, doing the splits. The win comes when either party fails to reach the next position of the knife and falls to the ground. What I remember about this game is, and it still haunts me today. It was my turn to throw the knife. I simply forgot to let go and the knife fell from my hand and into the inside of my left ankle! I can still see the knife wobbling back and forth with blood gushing out of my ankle.,,,. SAFE TO SAY THAT WAS THE LAST TIME I EVER PLAYED “MUMLEPEG” AGAIN!!!! I have the scar to prove it and I am still awaiting my Purple Heart!
Hilarious as always, Jamie. I feel your pain, especially the part about trying to verbalize the incident to your 8 year old son (I have two boys myself and they are clueless when it comes to what a female must do to get ready in the morning). Just so you know, unfortunately, it does get worse but I’ve found that working up close with a magnifying mirror helps (although some days one of my eyes is red and swollen).