Not Doing Time...In Jail Anyway

Never fear, I actually was able to handle the situation of yesterday without getting myself arrested. My husband was very proud. heh Nope, I'm doing my time at the Pit today. It's tolerable because I know I'm outta here, and I can do whatever I want without fear of being fired. Though I am trying to control my temper and act professionally, you never know when you're going to need a reference.

Ok, so here's how it went down after I left work. I miraculously arrive home without being pulled over. Fran gets home minutes after I do and we make our way to the court. The cheery lady I spoke to earlier was not the same one I spoke to last month originally. This one was a little bitty thing...more girl than woman. I woulda felt bad smacking her around...it'd be too easy. So I say that I'm there to pay a fine. She says ok. I tell her that I called earlier that day.

"Meghan?" she asked, arching her eyebrows.

"Yes."

She goes to her computer, prints out something, and tells me it'll be $50. I cringed. The original parking ticket was $12. Apparently they added court fees because it had gone so long without being paid. But I wasn't about to get into the whole "I was told there was no ticket, why should I pay the jacked up price?" I knew there was nothing she could do about it. Wow...those meds are really workin. heh

So I pay it. I ask her who ordered the suspension, she tells me the same woman who is on vacation. But then she offers to take down my number because the woman sometimes calls in. Mighty white of her. So I leave my numbers and it's off to the DMV.

I have been to hell...and it is the DMV. We arrive at 1:30. I get number 789. They're on 695. Fran and I take a seat in the last 2 chairs left. To my right is a group of individuals speaking Spanish. In front of me is a large biker, staring into space. To his right is a skinny kid with tattoos up and down his arms, he's holding a file. Fran started to doze almost immediately.

Even though there are signs everywhere stating you can't eat or drink or use cell phones, all I hear are those annoying little songs all the cell phones play. All I can smell is McDonalds fries. This reminds me that I haven't eaten anything yet. A baby starts crying hysterically. I try to pass the time watching the little electronic sign that flashes advertisements, pop culture trivia, and news quips. It starts to make me dizzy. I check the clock...1:45. I look to see what number they're on...698.

Every time they up the number they push this button that sounds like a doorbell. I just sit there, counting the ding-dongs. It's freezing in there. I'm uncomfortable around large crowds, especially strangers. I remember that I haven't taken my meds, because I need to eat to take them. I wonder if I'm shivering from the cold or from withdrawal. Fran wakes up.

I convince him to run out and get me a crossword puzzle and himself a magazine. I sit there and wait for him trying not to stare at anyone. It takes all kinds at the DMV. I felt like I was sitting in the ghetto I used to hang out in when I was a teenager. Except for the occassional suit that walked by. We were on the second floor...the floor that was just for people with suspended licenses or who wanted their abstract. It was the bottom of the barrel up there. They were now on 748, but they were calling people in groups, made the numbers advance faster, but still took just as long. I ran downstairs for a smoke and bumped into Fran. At least I had a puzzlebook now.

So I sat doing puzzles, getting a crick in my neck, listening to the "slow" woman behind me babble very loudly about nonsense. My number came up at 4:00. I got to go through the door, into the back offices. No counter for me! heh. The whole process took 5 minutes. I paid, signed a form, and I was outta there. 2 1/2 hours of waiting for 5 minutes. But at least I had my license back...after shelling out $100 to DMV. As I walked out people who were still stuck there looked at me longingly. Some scowled in jealousy. But I got out. I was free. Fuck the DMV!

The rant would end there, but since I've been documenting my meds, I figure I should add the last incident of yesterday evening. Fran and I argued the whole way home about where to go to eat since neither one of us had eaten yet. He wanted subs, I wanted a real meal. He couldn't get what he wanted, so he pulled the usual baby routine and said, "Forget it, I'm driving home. I just won't eat." It's like being married to a 5-year-old. Anyhoo, about 5 minutes from home, I start getting the shakes. But I was so pissed at Fran that I didn't bother to mention it to him. I'd deal.

By the time I got home, I was convulsing like an epileptic, but I tried to keep it under control. I sat on the couch and stared straight ahead at the TV. So hungry that I actually wasn't hungry anymore and nothing sounded appetizing. My eyes started to twitch and my legs just tapped furiously. Fran didn't even look at me. I heard him start to snore. This was rediculous. Screw food, I'd deal with the stomach ache from taking the pill on an empty stomach. I had to stop the shakes.

The next thing I know, Fran is calling my name and shaking me. I'm on the kitchen floor. I have no idea what I'm doing there. So I asked him. He said that I had gone into the kitchen to get my pill. I asked him to help me. He got me a glass of water and cleaned up the pills that I, apparently, spilled on the floor. Then he went back into the living room and after he didn't hear me get up, he found me on the floor. Nice. I don't even remember going into the kitchen or taking the pill.

I did get food in me. My parents ordered Italian food and I was fine after I ate. Just another low point in my attempts to be sane. What are ya gonna do?

Well, if you're still reading this, I'm proud of ya! This was a long one. Sorry if it bored you. But it got me through some more time at the Pit. It's almost lunch time. :) Till next time....