Just yesterday, I received a summons to appear for jury duty... THIS Friday. Why does the local court only give a couple days' notice, anyway?
Don't start on civic responsibility. I'm perfectly willing to do it, provided they can work around my travel abroad that is staring me in the face.
I've been paying for this trip for 13 months now and it has cost me no small amount. Surely they will be flexible around that? I'll do it next week or even when I get back, but I'm hoping they don't try to pull the civic slavery bit on me. I was just called about four months ago the last time.
I suppose I will have to take them the invoice proving my travel dates and the money I will lose if they don't help me.
If they ruin this for me or force me to decide on being arrested... Well, let's just say I'm going to be a hostile juror.
Maybe they won't call me. And if the defendant is someone who was a student at my school anytime in the last 13 years, surely they would consider that prejudicial to the case. After all, I've seen a lot of my mental predictions about future criminals come true.
It doesn't make me happy. But try to warn a kid of the dark path they are treading and they will puff up with the attitude that they are too slick to get busted for anything, that they are special and entitled to do what they want.
Some only become pliant and willing to listen to reason after incarceration. And some just learn new ways to commit crimes while they are in jail.
They probably won't like my attitude about punishment, either. If you intentionally harm someone, I think you should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. Unless, of course, you can undo what you've done.
You'll let me know how that time travel thing works out, won't you, Sparky? Hmm. There's an idea for some fiction writing. Butterfly effect indeed.
Farewell, Ray Bradbury. You will be missed. Thanks for all your valuable fiction contributions.
I need to get back to the story I'm writing. I still have a few plot details to hammer out but I need some inspiration. It's hard to write scenes with a lot of physical action in them when you are alone 24/7.
No, I don't count my dog. He is a wonderful little fellow, but inspires no thoughts of my leading man. Lol The only blocking I've managed with him is trying to block his kissy little face when he wants to play.
I had a strange thought yesterday. I've actually been writing (non-school required) fiction since 7th grade. I don't know why I keep thinking that I've only been writing in the last five years. I wrote in middle school, high school, college.... Maybe I don't remember my personal writing because I hated writing requirements in school with such a flaming passion. For decades I claimed to hate writing because I couldn't write what I wanted to.
Why didn't I do more? I was afraid I'd get caught and be publicly embarrassed for my efforts. At that point, ridicule was everything to be terrified of, for me. I just wanted to please. And I never really accomplished it. *sigh*
It took me a long time to decide that pleasing myself was the only important venture. I still struggle to give myself permission for that.
I also knew that if I did any writing, I'd get in trouble at home for the crime of WASTING PAPER, as if paper wasn't incredibly cheap and easy for us to get at any store. We weren't wealthy, but we weren't the paupers *someone* tried to convince us we were, whenever we needed something like shoes. I got in trouble many times when I was caught drawing because I was WASTING PAPER.
Heaven help me if I had ever tried to write about what was hurting me. I had no privacy as a child, teen, or even young adult. It is contradictory to my secretive nature that I post these blogs where others can read them.
I suppose this is the memoir someone told me I should write. I'm still trying to figure out if he meant that dismissively or encouragingly. "Write a book about your life like I did," (and then maybe you'll stop talking to *me*, because I'm not interested in knowing you.) or "You should write a book about it because it will help you and maybe help someone else." Oh, those subtle nuances of intention. They just can't be determined by mere email.
Ah, if only I could write songs. Or even poetry. Okay, you can stop laughing. Those "poems" of mine are simply purgatives. Creating something beautiful and original seems to be roadblocked out of my reach.
As a teacher, I have to say that encouraging a child's creativity, imagination, and cognitive development is most certainly NEVER a waste of paper. Stomping it out at every turn is wrong, however.
I can draw, and I can write. Ha! I learned anyway, though my efforts are still rather rough around the edges. I have more to learn. I'll work on forgiving those who tried to smother my creativity, because there is still time for me to make something of my life that will make me happy.