nude highway driving

Missing a day of much-needed preparations for the upcoming Tokyo trip … watching “Ken Burns’ Jazz” in a waiting room with maybe 90 other people while listening to a way-too-loud lady bitch on her cell phone about allergies … being forced to watch a video on what it’s like to be a juror that is carefully crafted to drain my life force … starving my ass off and waiting for the 12:15 lunch call only to be called at 12:20 to go line up with 40 of my closest potential jurors for a case … eating a Fuddruckers hamburger an hour later … sitting for hours next to a fidgety girl who’s sneaking in cell-phone calls while listening to the court-played static on the PA so we can’t hear each juror being questioned at length, one by one … bad lighting and a friendly judge with a soft, sleep-inducing voice … seven hours in the D.C. Superior Court Building …

… only to walk up to the judge when my turn came and have him ask me if my car getting stolen last year would in any way affect my impartiality as a juror, then being asked to come back the next day!

Make it stop. God, please make it stop.