05/07/2025
So… I was in Brisbane town last week for a tricky all-day mediation. At the same time, I was drafting a mountain of trial material with a tight deadline, not to mention juggling a plethora of other matters.
Anyone who knows me professionally—or whom I’ve acted for—knows I go all the way to draft the best material possible. Why? Because that’s what gives the client the best chance at trial. That means time. That means grind. There’s literally nothing glamorous about what I do.
This isn’t Suits. This isn’t some glossy American legal drama. It’s raw. It’s visceral. It’s stress, pressure, and, at times, sleepless fu***ng nights.
But hey—at least I’m not getting shot at in some war-torn zone.
And this morning, I can sit down with a maté, listen to the sounds of the bush, hit a hardcore gym session this arvo, and recover with ice baths and saunas.
Because in the end, you’ve got to look after yourself because no other bastard gives two hoots.
