Workaholics Paralegals Unite!
By Ginger D. Gage, TBLS, ACP, Board Certified Paralegal — Real Estate, Texas Board of Legal Specialization, Certified
Paralegal — Advanced Certification — Real Estate, National Association of Legal Assistant
As I walked down the dimly lit hallway,
I tried to calm my nerves.
“Everyone here understands, Ginger.
They’ve all been there.” It wasn’t helping. I glanced nervously at each door,
searching for #113. At the end of the hall, I
rounded the corner and found it. I wrung
my hands and thought about turning
back. Finally, with a deep breath, I trembled
and stretched out my hand for the
knob. The door made a loud creak as it
opened, and I cringed as everyone turned
to look at the new arrival. I somehow
mustered a quiet hello before slipping into
an open seat in a circle of chairs. Others
slowly trickled in. I tried not to make eye
contact. Finally, a middle-aged woman in
a sharp business suit stood and began to
speak in an office tone. It was like she was
mocking us all. “It looks like we are ready to begin
here,” she said, shuffling papers as though
she knew it would be nails on a chalkboard.
A few people groaned. “Ma’am,
why don’t you start us off.” I didn’t want
to look up. Surely she wasn’t speaking to
me. “Ma’am, we’re on a deadline here,”
she repeated. I knew I couldn’t let everyone down. It
wasn’t in my nature. I stood and looked
around at the faces staring up at me. The
tired, sunken eyes. The paper-cut fingers
bent awkwardly from a Carpel-Tunnel
inflamed wrist. The telling red bump on
the forehead where it met firmly and often
with a desk. Suddenly, I was infused with
a new strength, a feeling that was almost
pride. I raised my chin and said the words
that countless others had said before me...
“My name is Ginger—and I am a workaholic!”
“Hi, Ginger,” was the unified response,
“welcome to Workaholics Anonymous.” The WA meeting progressed well.
Everyone had their stories. Unpaid overtime.
Daunting deadlines. Company lap-
tops received under the guise of a “gift”
but only installed with work programs.
Some even spoke of never seeing the light
of day—they arrived at the office before
sunrise and left after their families had
gone to bed. A homemade meal had been
replaced by fried chicken from a bucket
(and that was only if they had time to eat
at all). Lunch hours were stolen. Sticky
notes went missing. Files were ripped
apart by attorneys only to be returned as a
shameful shattered mess of papers, completely
devoid of order and covered in the
boss’s double shot latte with skim milk
WHICH was bought by the paralegal on
her way to the office as she juggled a briefcase, a banana, an unsigned report card, a
cell phone, a new ink cartridge, and balanced
a ball on her nose while doing the
Macarena. It was a sad sight indeed. Tears
were shed. Bonds were made. By the end
of the meeting, each person knew the
truth about WA—it is a place for people
who . . . have more time than we do!!!!
Although none of the paralegals returned
to another WA meeting, they all remembered
their experience, many of them similar
to my own. And since admitting a
problem is half of its resolution, let us all
lean on each other (for a 10 minute nap)
as we say together, “My name is , and
I am a workaholic.”
Ginger D. Gage, TBLS, ACP is with Hill
& Calk, P.C. in Longview, Texas.
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