Lost in Space

I was assaulted today - BIG TIME - by oldheimers disease. I drove to court and - lucky me - found an empty spot - right by the main entrance. And let me tell you that only happens on a blue moon. Usually I park out in the back 50, and I'm usually late and need to take a tram to the main doors. Not that their is a tram available.
So I snapped up that sweet spot - beaming like a jack-o-lantern on Halloween. And in I went. The buzzer went off again but this time I had stockings on so removing the shoes wasn't too bad and I wasn't late. YEHAW.
I left the court house with blue skies and white puffy clouds greeting me with the warmth of the afternoon. It was a beautiful day. I looked for the truck. OMG - it was gone. My first thought was someone had stolen it and inside was my cellphone and my wallet, holy crap. I wandered aimlessly around the gigantum parking lot. I pressed the alarm button on my keypad and listened - nothing. Yep, someone must have stolen it. It was hot walking all over hells acre.
The light bulb went on inside and illuminated the darkness of my feeble mind. Ah, yes, I parked the old girl somewhere else. Where? I walked by many rows and looked for the blue beauty with the roof rack. It seems like it would stand out in a crowd - but NO. I hit the alarm button again, and then remembered it doesn't work. Have to get that fixed - like real soon. Finally after blisters on my feet, drenched in perspiration I spotted her - certainly that was not where I left her?

Screw You

My life is ever changing and it frustrates me and inspires me - simultaneously. I used to be an early riser mostly due to the fact that my bedtime was 8 pm. Now, I lie in bed counting the puffs of the popcorn ceiling paint (that I detest) it seems better than counting sheep. I just can't seem to picture sheep in my mind but - oh - that popcorn ceiling paint is in my face.

When that doesn't work I do a few laps in the pool and then back inside counting the puffs on my ceiling - and this is difficult in the dark. Still, eyes wide open, sleep is on the other side of the planet. I slide out of bed and head for the computer. I play free cell till I am ready to barf, surf the net and do online surveys. Then, back to the bedroom to stare at the ceiling.

So when the great yellow orb rises in the East - I'm out like the trash. No time for coffee. I slip on a dress and search for panty hose. None. I'm late so I swoosh out the door bare legged and hairy. The dress is rather long so I feel a little safe from prying eyes. Like -who will look at my legs anyways!!!!!!

So, I get to court and drop my stuff in the grey plastic bin to make sure I'm not smuggling in weapons of mass destruction's. The metal detector goes off. I sigh, a little too loud. I pat my chest looking for my name tag with a 1/4 ounce of metal. I have left my name tag somewhere?

I pass through the detector again, walking the straight line that they insist upon. What is this a sobriety test? Off goes that dang (I prefer another word) buzzer. People behind me are getting antsy. Must be they are running late also. The security guard tells me to remove my shoes.

"WHAT?" This is not an airport.

I remove my shoes and there I stand barefooted, bare legged and a bit hairy. I can just imagine the odor my shoes are emitting. Serves them right for making me take my shoes off. Yuck, the floor is cold and dirty. And there I stand for the whole world to gawk at me. I grab my shoes and run barefoot down the hall to the elevator. I am so late again.

I stand inside the crowded elevator (the slow elevator) with shoes in hand, looking a bit disheveled. It bumps slowly to my floor and I slip out and put on my shoes. Why did I wait? Must be sleep deprived. If only my previous sleeping habits would return - life might be easier for me.

Here Come Dah Judge

So my first day in court on my new job and I'm wanting to make a GOOD impression. Judges scare me a little - just a little - actually a whole bunch. I wore a very conservative looking suit - very professional. My hair was okay. I wore cutesie little pumps instead of my bright pink Crocs. I was ready to roll.

I forgot the briefcase (that would have been VERY professional) and ended up hand carrying the massive file. It weighed in about ten pounds. I carefully start to get out of my car and my coordination always somewhat out of kilter drops a notch. Must have been those cutesie pumps. I start to weave toward the pavement - face first.

Lucky for me I save the day and don't go flat on my face or spread eagle. I must have spastic muscles or something funky like that because my arms fly up and out - still holding that 10 pound file and it slides ever so slowly across my face. But I did not hit the ground - a great save I thought.

I strut proudly toward the courthouse. Then, the side of my face begins to sting. The pain is awful and I don't deal kindly with pain. I hold tight to the ten pound file and with my right hand I reach up and touch the pained face. I look at my hand in absolute horror. There is blood dripping down my fingertips. OMG!!! I'm bleeding to death on the court house steps.

I keep my hand on the side of my face and try to be discreet as I drop the ten pound file, two cell phones and my car keys into the plastic bin the security guard holds out for me. At this point in time I have dripped blood all over one of the cell phones and the corner of the ten pound file. I kept my hand firmly placed on my face to contain the deluge of blood.

I walk through the metal detector praying that it doesn't go off and they force me to do some strip search. The deputy gives me a strange look but lets me pass. I walk down the hall leaving a trail of blood in my wake. I sneak into the ladies room to assess the damage.
Oh, yuck, half of my cheek skin is gone. She's bleeding like a stuck pig and court starts in 20 minutes. I grab a paper towel and dab at my pathetic face. Hurts like hell. The bleeding continues. I grab another paper towel dampen it and hold it hard against my damaged cheek.
I get into the elevator with more strange looks. I can hear their thoughts -'that bimbo's going to make a great impression in the court room.'

I slip into Court Room 3B and take a seat in the back. I push the soggy paper towel against my throbbing cheek. I will not cry. For some wonderful unknown reason my case was delayed for an hour. I rush back to the bathroom to attend my wound and my bruised ego. Wouldn't I make a GREAT first impression with my face all bandaged up like a mummy.
The bleeding stops but the side of my face is ugly, red and bruising. Maybe the judge won't notice.

My time has come and I walk sideways to the table right in front of the judge. I try to turn my body so he cannot see the damage. I feel like a fool. I turn my notes over to the attorney and see the bright red stains along the edge. She says nothing. I shrink a little in my seat. I feel like the judge is staring at my wounded face. The case is rescheduled and I make a beeline for the door and my cutesie little pump catches the corner of the chair. I fall flat like a pancake.