Trial

So...I haven't been blogging at all lately, this we all know. I honestly have spent most of my free time the last three months "couponing." Don't get me wrong, I actually enjoy cutting out the coupons and organizing them in my binder (yeah, sometimes I think I'm weird for enjoying super hum-drum activities like this). But it takes A LOT of time. Plus, when it comes to my blog, let's face it:

Sometimes I'm just plain lazy. And that's ok with me.

Anyway. This brings me to the real subject of this post. My trial.
Most of you probably know by now that I'm on a jury. Not just any jury, but an extremely lengthy jury. Any of you who know anything about jury service or have actually been on a jury know that I'm not allowed to talk about it. This drives me bonkers. But I have to vent a little, so I will talk about what I can.

When the whole jury selection was going on, I actually thought, "Hey, I've never been on a jury, and this would get me out of work for almost three months. The case seems interesting, so I won't try too extremely hard to get out of it." I honestly thought they wouldn't pick me, since I actually kind of wanted to get on. How hard could it be? You get to sleep in later than normal, work way shorter hours, have super long lunches, and have an afternoon break. In the courtroom, all you have to do is listen and take notes occasionally to remember stuff. Easy, right?

WRONG. I got picked. Juror #7. First couple of weeks, everything was interesting. Hearing the witnesses talk about what they were there for was something I had never experienced. My hand got tired every day from all the notes I was taking, trying to remember everything (literally) that was said. In the middle, everything had changed up a bit and was still quite interesting. At this point, I'm thinking, "This is getting more confusing, but they'll totally have evidence that will clear all doubts either way for sure." Hm.

Now, here we are at the end. The trial was extended, because the judge underestimated the time of things. Only a few days, not a big deal. Or so I thought. Now my thought process is like, "Holy frick. We're almost at the end, and I'm changing my mind about the verdict almost every hour. This person's future is partly in my hands. Why do the lawyers have to be such butt faces to the witnesses?" I'm stressing myself out so badly I'll probably start getting cold sores all over my lips. Today I thought I just might lose it. Here's what my notes looked like (at least what I can write):

**I HATE THIS**
**KILL ME NOW**
**I HATE PEOPLE THAT DON'T KNOW HOW TO ASK QUESTIONS**
**I HATE PEOPLE THAT DON'T LISTEN TO THE ANSWERS TO THE QUESTIONS THEY JUST ASKED**
**I HATE SUCH AND SUCH'S DRAB CLOTHES**
**I HATE PEOPLE WHO LIE**

These are just a select few...so yeah. Needless to say, today was not the best day of my life. I literally wanted to punch something (or someone). I had a real good can't-speak-for-sobbing-too-much cry fest when I got home (My husband is wonderful). A good workout fixed that aspect of my frustration, but only temporarily. Tomorrow I have to go back, and I will see this to the end. Dang it.