During an average work day at my office the human spectrum is much like any other office place. We are a warm, small friendly office with much water-cooler talk. Except sometimes people throw things, like lamps. Sometimes people cry when they shake my hand. Sometimes they show me graphic photos involving their spouse. Once someone gave me a pair of panties. Many times people yell – at me or just generally at the world.
Every divorce is unique, the way that every life and marriage is unique. How I react depends on my assessment of the situation and what can be done about it. (But don’t throw my desk lamp, because that really ticks me off).
Aside from the random broken lighting, divorce is complicated. An assortment of laws intersect wrapping up the dissolution of marriage with contract law, property law, family law, federal law (with strange abbreviations like ERISA and COBRA) and (often) criminal law. And these complicated (read: boring) legal concepts are being dumped like a bucket of cold water over a person right at the same time that person is experiencing the most tremendous emotional fire ever felt. Clients don’t know whether to tear apart like wet paper or explode in a ball of flames and hot ash.
My job is stop the combustion and wade through the muck. Together we find a path through the landmines and rubble. Together we create something new. If there is an art to divorce, then I’m a divorce artist.
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