2.18 - Trials and Tribulation
Tomorrow in Franklin County, I will be the expert witness in the case of Commonwealth v. Max Ability. I had my last practice last night where I conveyed for the last time that I am not plugging things in wherever it seems nice. I'm on the stand to answer questions and will do so. If my attorney doesn't want to ask the right questions, then she be screwed. I've given my advice, tossed my two cents in time and again, but come tomorrow, I'm just answering questions. I will be giving the most comprehensive and accurate answers that answer the question. I'm not going to be held responsible for when it turns to crap. We might win. We might lose. It has little to do with me at this point.
I became sick on Monday and have been trying to shake the symptoms for days, taking a steady stream of medication for each of my maladies, eating and drinking healthier than usual. I stayed home from school on Wednesday because I spent the whole night feeling like crap. I've been sleeping with the aid of Nyquil, that thick syrupy concoction I have never downed without shuddering afterward. Sleeping more than usual has left me with a disoriented feeling and my internal clock has gone to hell.
The whole point of trying to get better is to be at my best for the trial. I can safely say now that knowing what I do, I would not have become a part of the mock trial team. Especially not as a witness. The attorney has the easy job, asking questions. The witness has to have the answers. That's tough.
All else aside, my latest investigation into the possible misuse of power in the realm of public education has led me to some questions about my own life. From poking my nose around, getting few answers and more questions, I finally resigned my report to a follow up I couldn't make today and the case is closed as far as I'm concerned. Peripherally, I came in contact with someone I haven't been in touch with since before the new year. When I left Fox Chapel, I expected everything to stay exactly as it was, nothing or nobody changes and when I went back it would be precisely as I'd left it. I soon learned that my absence doesn't stop the clock and that life goes on. Bit of a blow to the ego. This recent case brought up similar feelings when I found that just leaving the arena of organized religion doesn't mean it stops. In this case, things got worse. So now I'm heading back to see what's left for me to do.
It never ends, the merry-go-round of life is constantly spinning and I'm catching only blurred images of what the rest of the world is up to. Most of the drama, I admit, I cause myself. Not all of it, but enough to realize that my life would be easier if I didn't. I like bringing people along for the ride and those who are looking to fulfill some undernourished ambition or aspect of themselves keep coming back for more.
It's hard to say what'll happen tomorrow or the day after that. I know only the endless string of due dates and upcoming events, hazy in that fog of the future. They loom there and will come to pass in the present in their own time. Some things are inevitable, we try to put them off and wait just another week before confronting the ghosts of the past or the specter of the future. Fate has a way of catching up with all of us and in the grand scheme of the universe, we are made whole again.
Respectfully Submitted,
Art "The Brain"
I became sick on Monday and have been trying to shake the symptoms for days, taking a steady stream of medication for each of my maladies, eating and drinking healthier than usual. I stayed home from school on Wednesday because I spent the whole night feeling like crap. I've been sleeping with the aid of Nyquil, that thick syrupy concoction I have never downed without shuddering afterward. Sleeping more than usual has left me with a disoriented feeling and my internal clock has gone to hell.
The whole point of trying to get better is to be at my best for the trial. I can safely say now that knowing what I do, I would not have become a part of the mock trial team. Especially not as a witness. The attorney has the easy job, asking questions. The witness has to have the answers. That's tough.
All else aside, my latest investigation into the possible misuse of power in the realm of public education has led me to some questions about my own life. From poking my nose around, getting few answers and more questions, I finally resigned my report to a follow up I couldn't make today and the case is closed as far as I'm concerned. Peripherally, I came in contact with someone I haven't been in touch with since before the new year. When I left Fox Chapel, I expected everything to stay exactly as it was, nothing or nobody changes and when I went back it would be precisely as I'd left it. I soon learned that my absence doesn't stop the clock and that life goes on. Bit of a blow to the ego. This recent case brought up similar feelings when I found that just leaving the arena of organized religion doesn't mean it stops. In this case, things got worse. So now I'm heading back to see what's left for me to do.
It never ends, the merry-go-round of life is constantly spinning and I'm catching only blurred images of what the rest of the world is up to. Most of the drama, I admit, I cause myself. Not all of it, but enough to realize that my life would be easier if I didn't. I like bringing people along for the ride and those who are looking to fulfill some undernourished ambition or aspect of themselves keep coming back for more.
It's hard to say what'll happen tomorrow or the day after that. I know only the endless string of due dates and upcoming events, hazy in that fog of the future. They loom there and will come to pass in the present in their own time. Some things are inevitable, we try to put them off and wait just another week before confronting the ghosts of the past or the specter of the future. Fate has a way of catching up with all of us and in the grand scheme of the universe, we are made whole again.
Respectfully Submitted,
Art "The Brain"