A trickle breaks the drought

Money woes for Junior Junior ... When will she be paid? ... Generating the appearance of busyness is so exhausting ... Importance of keeping the phone connected 

It has been a month.

More than a month, technically.

The longest month and four days on record.

In that month, I have sent out invoices totalling $4,780 and I have received ... nothing.

Not a single cent. Not one cheque or bank transfer. 

It is all well and good to have tens of thousands of dollars out there in the ether owning to you, yet none of it is materialising.

I console myself that work is still coming in - but all the work in the world is useless if there's no payment. 

So I have started chasing people. Just a little letter here and a quick uncomfortable phone call there.

One solicitor, who owes me a tidy fortune, has not paid bills for over nine months. And we aren't talking work on spec.

When I ring for the fourth time to enquire about the outstanding bounty, he tells me that the client hasn't paid yet.

Grrrrrrr! It's the most annoying excuse on the planet.

When will solicitors realise that the costs agreement they signed said that they owe me the money, not some client I have never actually seen.

To me it is irrelevant when the client gives them the money. If they were silly enough to do the work without money on trust then it should be on their heads.

Somehow or other, it's on mine. 

Without liquidity for a month and four days my bank account is drying out.  

Should I have played the "I'm-a-poor-struggling-barrister" card?

Even though it's true, I suspect it might have done more damage to admit my workload allows me to sleep a full eight hours every night.

I have been told that barristers are supposed to represent to all and sundry that they are very busy and important, even though absolutely nothing is cooking.

The insinuation of being sought-after is supposed to generate work, but I'm sceptical about this.

I usually go with, "Yes, quite busy", followed by a smile or wink that hints, "Give me some freaking briefs you tight old bastard". 

But hold ... a knock.

It is my darling floor junior with the mail. There are promising envelopes. Yes. Cheques - $400 all up. The drought has broken.

Two solicitors have come through. Oh, how I love them. 

More is still outstanding, so its back to ringing around, awkwardly.   

At least now I can afford to keep the phone on.