my perfect job :: essays research papers

I look out the window and see massive buildings, millions of colorful lights lights and above it all a dark night sky. It’s almost eight, and I rub my eyes in an effort to wipe away exhaustion from the long day. I struggle to get up and slowly walk over to the huge window. I look down and see hundreds of tiny cars whoosh in all directions, I think I see people, but it’s too hard to tell. I sip on my cappuccino while thinking about today’s case. I admire my speech and the carefully thought out questions for the main witness. I remember when I first started my practice: a shabby small office on a side-street, working for a snobbish little man who always annoyingly patted his head to make sure his toupee was still there. I was so inexperienced and scared.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  I notice that I finished my cappuccino and have been â€Å"sipping† on air for the past fifteen minutes; I laugh at myself and toss the empty cup in the trash. Then I fall back into my thoughts, and I realize that I’m proud of me. I proud of my tall bookshelves full of law books which I have all read, my big desk with piles of folders with cases waiting to be â€Å"freed†, the confidence I have in the courtroom, the way I worked so hard to be able to say that I love my job, I’m round of how eager I am to come in here every morning and I never want the day to end so I can stay just a little longer. A lot of people can only dream of what I have.   Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  Ã‚  I am interrupted by a ring, that’s my phone. I pick up the receiver and try to pull myself back into the details of the case I was going over before I decided to take the much-needed break, it’s a business call. For the next half an hour I fall into the world of justice, right-and-wrong, the world of my client and our case. I hang up with a smile because I like it when I can tell a person â€Å"I will take care of this, don’t worry†. This puts people at ease and me in control of the situation so I can give it my best.