Jury Duty Denied

After years of being pursued by the Clerk of the Circuit Court, imagine my surprise and deflated spirit at being rejected. I guess five years of spurning him did the trick.

So, after getting up early, rushing through commuter traffic, waiting twenty minutes to travel 200 feet to the entrance of the parking garage--causing me to be twenty minutes late--they decided they didn't want me. At least they were prompt in letting me know quickly. I only had to wait four hours.

Honestly, it was kind of a letdown. They didn't even pick me as part of a group to question. As I kicked some serious Sudoku butt in the puzzle book I brought, I pondered what it was about my demographic that turned them off. Being in my thirties? Being unemployed/self-employed? Too many letters in my name? Being so nerdy that I play Sudoku?

In truth, they probably take the hundreds of questionnaires, throw them in a giant BINGO contraption and pull them out all willy-nilly.

That must be it.

Right?

Off To Jury Duty

I am awake, dressed in grown-up clothes and desperately trying to scrape together a cup of coffee to fortify me this morning. It would be a lot easier if I had remembered to buy coffee filters. Instead I had to reverse engineer my own out of a couple layers of paper towels, hoping that maybe they would be equivalent. They're not.

This is my first time for showing up for Jury Duty. In some ways, it would be neat to be a part of the judicial system and see things from the inside. On the other hand, having to be a part of a jury that's dealing with something very serious such as a murder, child abuse, or rape is not something I especially want to do. But--as I constantly tell my kids when they whine about doing any sort of chore--sometimes we have to do things that we don't feel like doing or they would never get done.

I'll report back later with all the juicy details!...that might be illegal.

Jury Duty

The Circuit Court of my county has a thing for me. They keep inviting me to Jury Duty. I think they have a complex. I have turned them down at least three times by now. This stalkerish behavior should really be reported. I was thinking of getting a restraining order against the Clerk of the Circuit Court, asking him to please stop hounding me. I do not want to sip coffee, in Styrofoam cups, with little red stirrers, in a dark paneled room, with fluorescent lighting, with you. I am married. Not Available. Not Interested. No matter how sexy your plastic nameplate is, I have no desire to see you. Please, stop calling me.

Ahhh....but then I was confounded by cleaning my house. I stacked together miscellaneous papers in a neat little pile on the counter--papers that needed to be filed away, papers that needed to be hung on the refrigerator, and most importantly--papers that needed to be returned with an X in a tiny, little box stating that I have a child under age six, for whom I am the primary caregiver, so please let me go so that I can supervise my child and make sure he doesn't light himself on fire or stab his eyes with scissors while making an art project. Yes, that important paper sunk to the bottom of the paper pile, hiding inconspicuously amongst the insurance paperwork, primitive drawings and pizza coupons....silent and still...until it shouted into my brain yesterday,"JURY DUTY!!! YOU FORGOT TO MAIL ME IN!....NANA...NANA...BOO BOO! IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOU YOU!"

And so, Mr. Clerk of the Circuit Court, you will finally be able to bring me to your lair and force me to be part of your dastardly schemes. I have been undone by hasty housecleaning.

You'd better have cream and sugar for my coffee!