...to finally get called for jury duty. I thought I had managed to fly under the radar and escape detection. Oh well. It was fun while it lasted.
Today I have to report to the courthouse at 9 am, paper in hand. First off, I can't believe they would send me a piece of paper a month in advance and tell me that I had to bring it to court. If I so much as open the electric bill and set it down I can't find it 10 minutes later. I have spent a solid month stressing over making sure I'm constantly aware of where that paper from court is at all times.
I pinned it to my cork board, but I so rarely do something like that that I worried I wouldn't think to look there. Then I put it on top of the stack of stuff in front of my computer but fretted that it would be buried in the chronological order of stuff that piles up there. Then I folded it up and stuck it in my purse.
I rarely, if ever, carry a purse. I'm a license in my back pocket, money in the front kinda gal. I don't carry around makeup because I don't wear it, and all that other junk that women tend to haul around just seems better left at home to me.
But I figured if I put it in my purse, and then trained myself to use the purse that by the time I went to court I would have the whole dilemma solved. So I've been carrying around this little canvas satchel for a month now. Well, not always carrying it around because there have been 3 times I had to return home for it because all my money now resides there and the grocery store no longer takes wampum. Besides, I wasn't totally sure what "wampum" was and didn't want to seem ignorant at the checkout when trying to pay with parking lot scrapings.
So, now I am trained, partly, to carry a purse. The letter is neatly folded in the purse. My bifocals and car keys and license and money are also in the purse so as to remind me that I need to strap on the canvas satchel before leaving the house. Thus I will "remember" the letter because I can't possibly leave without it.
I tried all this with the corkboard first, but that was awkward to carry around.
Anyhow, all joking aside, while I am more than ready to do my civic duty and serve my community by screaming out "hang the bastard!", I am more terrified of this than I am about having an MRI.
Maybe because I have had that "conditioning" treatment when you are faced with your fear repeatedly in order to overcome it. (Not out of choice, but I've had a few more than normal due to this clinical trial).
The thought of standing before a room full of people and having to recount any mundane details of my life has me locked in fear. I once tried to get a permit for a conditional use for my home so that I could operate my print shop out of the garage. I had to speak before the city board and the general public gathered there. When I spoke it sounded more like a croaking frog chomping down on a squealing mouse. My words came in grunts and squeaks.
It was then I realized I'm no public speaker.
So today, if my attempt to play the MS card and get out of all this stress inducing circus fails me, I will at least have an opportunity to face my fear of public speaking and hopefully overcome in with a minimal amount of embarrassment and a semi-human speaking voice.
If I can just get past the "it's all about me" part, then jurors get to sit back and shut up. The worst part will be over. And I have learned to sleep sitting up, so I'm good to go. :-) (you know I'm kidding, don't ya?)
If I get picked for some juicy trial I'll blog about it after it's all over. I've been looking for something to talk about anyhow.
wish me luck (croak).