There’s grown-up on my pillow.

(Hope you’re feeling better Lisbeth. And it’s throw-up.)

I don’t understand them, the people who show up for jury duty without a book, magazine, crossword puzzle, pen and paper, anything. I watched these people do nothing all day today. How can you do nothing for eight hours? They just sat. And stared. At nothing. I don’t understand them.

That being said, I got through two magazines, a third of Eat, Pray, Love and had quite the day of relaxation and quiet. I love jury duty. To sit in a quiet room for eight hours and read? Now, I know this isn’t the typical civic duty service for most, but to be one of the lucky ones as I was today? . . . to not have your name called? . . . while at first it felt like I was the last pick in the school yard, I soon got over it.

Back to work tomorrow. I might just have to go back to being a legal eagle (I'm so cool) later in the week though. Don’t ask . . . I have no idea how this crap works either. I’m just doing what they tell me.

It’s past my bedtime and I have a big tension headache from the enormous breakdown I just had on the phone with my sister. Dude, Sarah, you’re one patient lady. I’m terribly sorry you always seem to get the explosions. (I know it’s particularly fun to hear me fight to catch breath, being so friggin’ blocked up and all.)

Ugh . . .

One last fit for 2007, I suppose (let’s hope that’s the last one). I think 2008 is going to be all about learning how to live in a capable, non-retarded fashion. Or perhaps I won’t have to worry and soon I’ll just start pooping money.

I’m going to go to bed now and hope that I wake up making more sense.

From Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert:

"I love my pizza so much, in fact, that I have come to believe in my delirium that my pizza might actually love me, in return."

"You were given life; it is your duty (and also your entitlement as a human being) to find something beautiful within life, no matter how slight."