Not only did I have 3 errands for work to run yesterday on my day off, but I got stood up on two of them! The man from whom I was supposed to pick up some specialty light bulbs got stuck on an out-of-town job and I waited fruitlessly for him before I finally had to leave to meet the man who was supposed to do our annual sprinkler check, who no-showed (apparently he "didn't get the paperwork").
Plus, now that Indiana will be playing that Daylight Savings Time game, I'm going to get even less sleep Saturday night than I usually do, closing Saturday and opening Sunday (only 10 hours between those shifts this week instead of 11).
Sigh. I need a vacation....
|Your Brain's Pattern|
You tend to take every new idea in, and meld it with your world view.
For you, everything is always changing. Each moment is different.
Your thinking process tends to be very natural - with no beginnings or endings.
Thanks to Night Rider for pointing me to this quiz!
I had one of those work-weekends where two more problems cropped up for every one I handled. That means I've got a bunch left over for today, so if anyone needs any, I'l be happy to share.....
Yesterday I had an adventure.
In olden times, the county jury pool was drawn from registered voters, and although I have been continuously registered to vote since I was 18 years old (um--for five years, yeah, that's the ticket) I had never been summoned. Recently they changed to using the Driver's License and State ID data base, and voilà! I was called to jury duty.
Luckily (?) the summons was for my day off. Unfortunately, I did have to close the night before, so there was a lack-of-sleep issue with my arising (and ingesting enough coffee to be able to drive) in order to be at the courthouse by (gasp!) 8:30 am. Jurors are paid $15.00 to show up, or $40.00 a day if chosen to sit on the jury. Parking is not reimbursed.
I don't go downtown very much, so I parked in the garage closest to the Courthouse that I was most familiar with. Unfortunately, it was the City/County parking garage, and so had been "improved" since the last time I had been there--about forty of the parking places nearest to the exit had been designated no parking areas, and the remaining places on the ground floor were now so narrow that I had a hard time squeezing my 1988 Mercy Tracer into one. Additionally, the parking attendants had been replaced with a reverse ATM machine (more on that later). I had to walk about a block to get out of the garage, and then another block and a half to get to the Courthouse. Then I had to go around the side of the building, because the entrance had been moved.
I finally made it though the metal detectors and found the jury assembly area, where I was treated to a short film about the judicial system that had been written expressly for people who have lived in a cave in Borneo their entire lives. Seriously, is there any American citizen who does not know we have trial by jury with a judge, lawyers, and a bailiff? If so, then there's a movie made specifically for you! There were about fifty of us riveted by this exciting cinematic experience--which we had to endure without popcorn!
After the movie, we were given a ten minute break, and informed that the bailiff would be along shortly to take us upstairs to the courtroom. An hour later, we were given another break, and told that any minute now we would be called upstairs. Forty minutes after that, the bailiff showed up, took roll call, rounded up a few strays who had wandered off, and led us up the marble staircases to the third floor where he cut out twelve of our number to be first in the hot seat. The rest of us filed into the bride's side of the gallery (the groom's side had the case's witnesses and police officers).
The judge talked. The prosecutor talked. The defense attorney talked. The judge asked the jurors questions. The prosecutor asked the jurors questions. The defense attorney asked the jurors questions. After awhile I spaced out, and spent a lot of time admiring the scenery*. Then I admired the decor, which was cool--1900ish with ornate columns and gold bas reliefs of justice and a stained glass dome overhead.
Five jurors were dismissed with no dramatic music whatsoever, and five more randomly chosen to take their places. Rinse. Repeat. By the time 12 persons good and true had been chosen, there were only a dozen of us left in the gallery.
I never made it to the jury box, but that's probably just as well since the case was an armed robbery of a small business, and being a retail manager I would have been naturally sympathetic to the victims. Plus, frankly, I would've been far more likely to believe the testimony of the police officers (who were really cute) than to discount it.
It was close to 1 o'clock by the time I got back to the parking garage to pay for my parking. I was a little shocked to learn that my tab for a little over 4 hours was a whopping $6.00, but I proceeded to feed ones into the designated bill slot.
It didn't like my bills. It kept spitting them back out at me. Fortunately, the reverse ATM also took change--not my change, of course. I can understand the machine not liking a particularly crumpled or dirty bill, but it kept rejecting my quarters!!!! Finally I managed to scrape together enough currency and coins to satisfy the beast, and it released my paid voucher. I apologized to the line that had formed behind me, and trekked off to my car.
It's a darn good thing that I wasn't chosen as a juror, because I only had about $3.00 left, none of which the machine would accept anyway, and God only knows how much it would have cost me to park had I been forced to stay another 4 or 5 hours for the trial....
The good news is, I have fulfilled my obligation for two years. And if I get called again, I'll probably take a taxi. I think that would be cheaper in the long run....
*the police officers--unfortunately, there was nary a fireman to behold
On behalf of my mother's Irish ancestors,
Happy St. Patrick's Day!
Even though I am just as introspective, opinionated, and subject to the usual (and unusual) work annoyances, I haven't been feeling communicative recently. I don't think I'm burnt out on blogging; I just have been keeping everything inside rather than venting. I think I have a touch of depression. Yesterday I was threading a movie and just wanted to cry for no discernible reason. Being an overly-analytical person, I tried to determine the cause. Could be the steroids the doctor has me on. Might be a Pre-Menopausal emotional upheaval of some kind, since the big Four-Oh was a few years back. Could be a Mid-Life Crisis, since if I haven't hit the half-way point of my time on the planet yet, I probably will soon. Might have been the romance novel I was reading, since it's unlikely I will manage to happily marry and have half a dozen or more kid-lets in the next couple of years. (And even if I did, I wouldn't have the energy to chase them at my age.)
Whoever said it was the things you regret not doing that bothers you most was right. The thing is, though, if I had joined the Air Force instead of going to college, or gotten my Masters in English right after my BA, that doesn't mean my life today would be any better--just different. Maybe different would be good--but maybe it would be a lot crappier than it is now. That's one of those unknowables that sometimes keep a person awake at night.
I think that's why I enjoy reading so much--you always know how the story turns out. The bad guy gets caught, the couple falls in love, the world is saved from destruction--and Big Momma's House 2 doesn't brain-wrap at the Saturday Matinee...
First, I had the flu. Then it metamorphosed into a chest-thing (bronchitis?) and my doctor prescribed antibiotics, steroids and an inhalant. The meds each have a side-effect that, combined, make me wonder if being able to breath is really all that important after all...
On the other hand, at least I don't have to sit down at the top of the stairs and rest for five minutes to get my breath back before I start threading a projector anymore, so maybe the jitters, sleeplessness and frequent trips to the powder room are worth just to keep getting a paycheck.
Life's full of trade-offs.
One of my brothers accidentally stumbled upon one of those wacky conspiracy theory websites, and has been sharing some of the juicier revelations with me. In among the various "proofs" that Bush is Hitler (and plans to establish Satan as the head of the new world government) was a stunning religious insight: Noah had instant messaging!
When Noah built his ark, there were over 300 million people living on the earth. Only Noah and his family, only 8 people, were convinced that the world was going to experience a tremendous judgment from God. Over 300 million people scornfully rejected Noah's warnings.
As my brother put it:
Q: How did Noah possibly notify and subsequently get a rejection ("No thanks, guy, we'll stick it out") from 300 million people?
What if they all believed him? Could the Ark even hold 300 million sinners?
Tomorrow's Theological Poser: Can God make a rock so big that He can't lift it?
Can I hire somebody to run my life for me, since I'm too weak right now to do it myself?
Number of books I read from 2/20 to 2/26 : 7
Number of books I've read since 2/27 : 0
I hate being sick. I'm off work and I can't even enjoy it....
So, I worked last Thursday so that my Assistant could go to a concert, and she took my Monday in exchange. This meant that for the first time since we started 50¢ day I would have two days off in a row.
The Cosmos, of course, was laughing up its sleeve, as I woke up Monday feeling a little achy, and by the time Monday evening rolled around I had a cough, alternating chills and sweats, my body seemed to be attempting to move itself in a heavy-gravity environment, my brain made mush look like a complex thinker, and there seemed to be this little guy wearing a sharp helmet, pointy-toes boots, and carrying a pitch fork who was zipping around inside my skin stabbing joints and muscles and organs with sadistic glee.
At some point in the last 24 hours, the mush figured out that Tylenol works on pain, and it directed the body though the heavy-gravity atmosphere to find the analgesic and some water. Miracle of Miracles! Not only did most of the aches subside, but so did the chills and the gravity, and the not-quite-so-mushy-anymore deduced....you have a fever!
Consultation with a primitive medical tool called a thermometer indicated a temperature of 99.5° while taking Tylenol, which seems to indicate that the fever hypothesis was correct.
Gravity still seems about twice normal, so I'm thinking about calling my doctor.
UPDATE: Doctor's office says it is the flu that is going around, to get lots of rest and expect to be sick for 5 to 7 days. Lovely.