Too Sleepy to Think of a Title
J has been gone on a business trip and will be back tomorrow. Yay! I’m getting a little weary of doing both the all-night shift AND the morning shift.
In the meantime, Button and I have had the house to ourselves, which means I can do things like leave my shoes in the middle of the floor*, stay up as late as I want, and run through the house to the bathroom, flapping my arms and singing “I must pee-pee” to the tune of “I Feel Pretty.”
Just kidding about that last part. I don’t actually do that.
No seriously. I don’t.
You don’t believe me. I can tell by the look in your eye. You guys are worse than the cop.
Speaking of which, I went to the courthouse today to reschedule one of my court dates (as it stands, the appearance for the first ticket is scheduled before the appearance for the second ticket** - and since the first issue is entirely dependent upon the dismissal of the second issue, it can’t very well be handled before the second issue has been resolved) and actually spoke with a city employee who seemed to have some idea of what she was talking about.
I use “seemed” with much trepidation, because they always “seem” to know what they’re talking about. They do everything with utmost confidence, until you ask them enough questions and realize that everything they’re telling you with such confidence a) contradicts itself, b) contradicts what every other employee tells you, and c) isn’t remotely true.
So we’ll see if this supervisory lady really knew what she was talking about, or if she just totally screwed me over by recommending that I NOT change my court date and instead tell the judge about the conundrum and ask him to realign the resolution of the first case with the timing of the second.
Phew. This whole thing is getting confusing, even to me. Basically, the facts are:
- The city in which I live either makes a point to hire incompetent people, or refuses to train them (I’m not sure which).
- Policemen can be jerks.
- My lawyer is an idiot.
- I’m sleepy. Good night.
. . . . .
* I have to make a disclaimer here so that J doesn’t give me grief for it - having him home does not actually prevent me from leaving my shoes in the middle of the floor. I am, consequently, the primary cause of several of his near-death experiences.
- ** thanx to my imbecile lawyer who keeps rescheduling my court date for no reason. I regret that I didn’t pay him with a credit card so I could charge back the amount on account of misrepresenting himself to be proporting my best interest.
