I got called to jury duty, and today was the day I had to go.
But, if I'd been in the office, I'd have had a lot of lot of lot of lot of work to do. Sorry to stutter, but it was that kind of day.
I couldn't do any of that work, though, because I had to sit in a room and listen to lots of other people talk about whether they'd really be able to presume innocence because their brother-in-law was a cop. Or whether their cousin's arrest would make it impossible for them to view the case with an open mind.
I never even got called up to the jury box to answer those questions for myself. I just sat in a room and listened to those people. And stressed myself out about the work I had to do.
The case was about a woman who stabbed another woman in the stomach on the street with a kitchen knife, but she said it was in self defense. Sure. Why not? Defending one's self is a good reason to carry a kitchen knife on the street, or maybe she was hoping that someone would have some free strudel that needed to be sliced. They promised a description of "gruesome injuries," but I'm not going to hear any of that, because I didn't get put on the jury.
We took a break, though, and the view from the hallway at the courthouse was kinda cool. So that became my picture of the day.
I should have put it on my 101 Things list to take a day off and go sit in on a criminal trial. That's what all the senior citizens in Chicago used to do. They had a little club where they'd go down to the federal courthouse, divide up to different courtrooms and watch trials, and whenever one of them came up with one that was especially interesting, they'd run out and get the word to the others, who'd all filter into the room to watch the interesting trial.
Old people are weird.