Are you serial?
"Isn’t Scientology one of those things where you meet someone, then they tell you they’re a Scientologist, and you’re like, ‘Mm, I’m out.’ But you don’t want to say anything because they do kill people somewhere in the south."
–Kathy Griffin
I was in jury duty hell Friday, Monday, and Tuesday. I am such a creature of habit, that being broken from my normal pattern of going into work and steadily easing into the day with my pep-inducing diet pill, multi-vitamin, and big breakfast, followed by a series of pee breaks, really pissed me off. And I constantly need stimuli to keep me awake. And sitting and fucking waiting ’til no end does not qualify.
Thankfully, I had a cool bunch of intelligent San Franciscans as jurors who dealt with the case fairly and with good humor. If nothing else, it made me glad that I live in this city.
Nevertheless, the time it took has really hit me, especially since this is the busiest time of the year at work. To top that, my fucking rent check bounced because my bank sucks and claims I had less money in my account than was up and displayed online. There’s a nice $80 fee my way, and another ding in my tenancy.
Super duper, pooper scooper!
