I had jury duty today, which basically consisted of me sitting on those hard government property chairs and wishing I’d thought to bring a book. Or a magazine. Or a puppy. Basically all I had in my bag to amuse myself with was a diary (no pen) and a large scarf.
After I’d finished watching the jury duty video (it was very moving, I nearly cried, especially when ‘defendant’ was pronounced guilty by ‘head juror’.) I wrapped myself up in my scarf, propped myself in a corner, and spent three and a half hours inventing new ways to torture my neck and back while napping.
Unfortunately it’s hard to get a good snooze on when you’re sitting up, but the calculating way the fat baby boomer in the seats in front of me was looking back over his rounded shoulder made me think that lying down and having a proper nap wasn’t a good idea…
I mean, generally speaking, sleeping in public places is kind of dangerous anyway, but when you’re in a Jury room the strange cross section of society that gathers there… Well it’s kind of scary.
Finally the court attendant wandered back in a little after lunch and told us all that the trial is no longer needed because the person decided to change plea. Then he let us all go with the expectation that we’ll do the same thing for the rest of the week, which strikes me as a shitty way to spend the rest of my week.
Not that being on a trial would have been any more fun. I mean, generally speaking, the people who end up in court aren’t fun happy people, and generally speaking you don’t get to sit for three days and hear awesome funny and entertaining things.
The last time I did jury duty I got to hear all about domestic violence. Over, and over again. For five days straight.
Considering that this took place just before I hit my lowest point depression-wide last year… Well it was not a fun-filled experience. It did terrible things to the tattered remains of my faith in human beings.
In other news, Louise and I decided to try walking around the Miramar peninsula. We were about three hours in when the weather got a bit gross looking, so we cut through Seatoun, and a creepy tunnel built in 1906 (before ventilation was invented) and ended up in Miramar…
We walked past our old place and remembered the good times… Like that time we had to try and lift a 2 ton couch down the stairs by ourselves, and I nearly dropped it on Louise. Or the time we had a peeping tom, and none of us could remember the number for the police station.
Then we went to the pet store, and somehow I walked out of there with another two fish, only instead of guppies this time, they were minnows, and so now my cute wee bowl has four itty bitty fishes in it.
I honestly don’t know how it happened one minute I was talking about how I really should wait a week o two to make sure Watson and Holmes have settled in properly, and the next I’m clutching a bag with minnows in it, and debating names.
I decided on Toshiba and Blue.
ALSO I think, maybe Watson… Well I think Watson might be a girl. And… There’s no delicate way to say this.. but I think she might be er… increasing, quickening, gravida…
You see, after I brought the minnows I thought to double check that my Guppies would live happily with them.And I found out some inteesting things, for instance, minnows lay eggs, however guppies live birth.
And a lot of pet stores don’t separate the males from the females, so a lot of the time the girls are pregnant when you get them.
Since guppies do that whole live birth thing they get this dark spot on their tummies which is actually all the baby fry maturing, and the nearer the fish is to giving birth, the darker the spot is…
When I brought Watson and Holmes I thought that the spots were markings… But now I’m wondering if perhaps I might be wrong. See:
So yeah. now I’m freaking out that I might have a pregnant fish on my hands. That wouldn’t be good because my fish bowl is already edging on maximum capacity, because it is small, and I’m not really sure I want another 40 baby fish swimming around and being eaten by the other fish.
Although now that I’ve looked at more pictures I’m not really sure Watson is pregnant… I mean he doesn’t really look pregnant – like fat. He just has a spot. And that’s probably just a marking, so I’m probably worrying about his unmarried state prematurely.
I think if worst comes to worst I’ll have him and Holmes have a civil union, and they can both raise the babies.