Trial, day 2: puke and funerals

I would blog about trial today, but I was only there for a couple hours. Apparently, when you've been puking for hours, your co-workers really don't want you sitting at counsel table with them.

Yesterday, we told our opponents what was going on, and they said that none of my witnesses were going to come up today, so I could take off for the funeral. This morning, one of their attorneys cornered me on one of my frequent trips to the vomitorium (aka bathroom) and smarmily told me that, "Well, I guess we'll have to readjust our schedules, and you'll have to hope that we don't have to call {your witnesses} while you're out."

I told him that we had cleared the schedule with his co-counsel the day before and that had been assured that there was not going to be a problem. I then ran off to puke, and when I came back, relayed the prior episode to my co-counsel. The only word we could think of was "Dick," but feel free to add your thoughts on synonyms below.

So, when the judge got back, my co-counsel asked the judge that I be excused to attend my grandmother's funeral. She agreed. And while I didn't need for it to be on the official record, it was a good protection against them pulling any shenanigans.

Then I left the courthouse, puking all over beautiful downtown Newark on my way back to the hotel, where I tried to drink some red gatorade, puked some more, and went to my grandmother's funeral. Conveniently enough, the cemetery is only about fifteen minutes away from my hotel. Then, everyone went back to sit at my aunt's friend's mother's house, and I stopped in, drank some more red gatorade, and scurried back to the hotel, for another round of puking.

I am hoping to be done with the puking by the morning. And on that note, I'm going to sleep.