Court, cats, croissants, cuddles
Urgh, my shitty Friday owned your shitty Fridays. Sitting round in a place that looks like Purgatory, full of people up for a) shoplifting b) cannabis posession c) football pitch invasion d) drunk and disorderly behaviour e) robbery f) beatings And me. Got angry with my solicitor who kept on talking about how disappointed he was with the judge I'd got because he was 'unpredictable.' I shouted, "OK, can I ask what is the point of all those character references, my letter, my probation report- are they actually going to make a blind bit of difference?"
Turns out, they really did. Solicitor said they were the best references he'd seen in his 10 year career and the judge said how genuinely impressed he was by them. Long story short (I was in that dreadful place from 9am till 3.30pm) I got a suspended custodial sentence, which means if in the next year I re-offend or I don't complete 60 hours of community service, I go to prison. £85 fine. But only a 2 year driving ban!! Makes such a difference for it not to be a 3 year. And I was sure it was going to hours in the hundreds so... not awesome. I still have a criminal record now but I didn't end up in a cell.
"Don't worry though," says Solicitor, "If he sentences you to jail, we'll appeal it pretty quickly and we could get you out by WEDNESDAY." Fuck off.
Came to my Man's and the world improved immeasurably. I'm currently sitting in the house's extension, where they're keeping the latest addition to their cat menagerie, skinny Lizzie, who purrs like crackling bubblewrap and keeps jumping up to get me to stroke her. Man's upstairs until the Grand Prix editing the script for his one-man play then we're going to sit watching that eating croissants. Aw yeah. And I get to stay here all weekend, with possibly a lunch with The Vortex cast on Sunday. And already done wonderful terrible things with my Man, love him to pieces.
Turns out, they really did. Solicitor said they were the best references he'd seen in his 10 year career and the judge said how genuinely impressed he was by them. Long story short (I was in that dreadful place from 9am till 3.30pm) I got a suspended custodial sentence, which means if in the next year I re-offend or I don't complete 60 hours of community service, I go to prison. £85 fine. But only a 2 year driving ban!! Makes such a difference for it not to be a 3 year. And I was sure it was going to hours in the hundreds so... not awesome. I still have a criminal record now but I didn't end up in a cell.
"Don't worry though," says Solicitor, "If he sentences you to jail, we'll appeal it pretty quickly and we could get you out by WEDNESDAY." Fuck off.
Came to my Man's and the world improved immeasurably. I'm currently sitting in the house's extension, where they're keeping the latest addition to their cat menagerie, skinny Lizzie, who purrs like crackling bubblewrap and keeps jumping up to get me to stroke her. Man's upstairs until the Grand Prix editing the script for his one-man play then we're going to sit watching that eating croissants. Aw yeah. And I get to stay here all weekend, with possibly a lunch with The Vortex cast on Sunday. And already done wonderful terrible things with my Man, love him to pieces.