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my chambers is not a sweatshop! I appreciate your diligence, but you really should get out on the weekends. There are so many wonderful things to see and do, both in Pasadena and in Los Angeles. Promise me that you’ll do something fun next weekend.”
    I half expected Amit to say work was fun, but he simply nodded, chastened. Perhaps his predecessor clerk hadn’t explained the Monday morning meeting to him as well as Janet had explained it to me. Janet had told me that the judge would ask about our weekends at each Monday meeting and wanted to hear that we had outside interests and got to enjoy some of what L.A. had to offer. It struck me as a sign that the judge cared about her chambers staff, seeing us as more than mere workhorses.
    The judge turned her gaze to James, sitting to Amit’s right.
    â€œI had a great weekend,” said James, omitting mention of the many hours he spent working. “I checked out the new postwar sculpture exhibit at the Norton Simon.”
    â€œI’m glad to hear that,” the judge said. “A lovely museum, right here in Pasadena. Robert served on the board for a number of years.”
    â€œI also went for long runs in Arroyo Seco Park on both days,” James added. “And on Sunday I had dinner with a friend from law school.”
    â€œLarry,” said Judge Stinson, “what about you?”
    â€œWent out to my parents’ place in Malibu. A barbecue for some of their friends. Pretty sweet.”
    So that’s where Loyola Larry was while the rest of us were toiling over our bench memos—out at his famous father’s Malibu beach house.
    â€œPlease thank your parents for the invitation,” said the judge. “We had hoped to stop by, but I was feeling so exhausted on Saturday after getting back from my trip.”
    After Brenda recounted her weekend spent gardening, everyone turned to me. James had taken the high road in not bragging about working, but I couldn’t resist.
    â€œI joined Amit and James here in chambers over the weekend,” I began, wanting the judge to know that Amit wasn’t the only one with a work ethic. “But I took last night off for dinner and a movie with a friend.”
    â€œWhat did you see?” the judge asked.
    â€œ The Queen of Versailles ,” I said, starting to explain the somewhat obscure movie—Jeremy’s pick. “It’s a documentary …”
    â€œAbout the woman who builds the huge mansion?”
    â€œYes, Judge. Supposedly the largest single-family house in the United States.”
    â€œAnd how did you like it?”
    â€œI thought it was great—entertaining, topical, a meditation on marriage and money …”
    â€œNicely put. I will cite your recommendation when I try to get my husband to go see it. Robert and I are both big movie buffs. He favors Hollywood fare—it’s how he makes his living, after all—but I prefer documentaries and foreign films. Audrey, you have good taste.”
    The judge smiled at me. I beamed back at her. Amit shuffled his papers.
    We then moved into the meeting proper. Together we reviewed a series of different lists: pending cases, cases needing draft opinions, possible en banc cases, cases on the six-month list. As Judge Stinson moved through the lists, she fired off questions to all four of us. Which other judge still needs to send us comments on our draft opinion? What is the status of this potential en banc call? Why is this case on the six-month list? The judge’s questions didn’t touch on the merits of any of the cases, so I couldn’t gather much about her jurisprudence, but I could tell she was a skilled manager.
    I had been nervous about the meeting before it started, especially given my hangover—but once we started talking about the cases, I forgot my discomfort and focused on what was before me, like a seasoned athlete on a playing field. I stumbled the least in answering