Jury Doody

It was a painful seven hours.

One might think being without kids in a quiet room for an unlimited time might be a good thing. It’s not so much; at least it wasn’t so much for me.

In a crowded room of a cross-section of people hearing the dire and depressing tales of criminals and supremely unhappy people, one really gets the message: count your fucking blessings.

Count 'em. Right now.

Your life is good.