Postponement

I just got off the phone with the automated secretary for the Los Angeles Superior Court Jury Service and found out that I missed the deadline to register. That meant I had to postpone my report date, and being that I just wanted to push that responsibility as far away from myself as possible, I chose late January of next year. Why do I feel like that's not a victory?

Bureaucracy and me do not get along. I get super anxious when I go to the DMV, I can't stand the sight of a cop in my rear view mirror, and I hate filling out forms. Wow, I know, big revelation here - I know I'm not the only one. But I legitimately felt like I was getting scolded by the automated secretary for not registering in time. Do you think they somehow get the lady who they hired to record her voice to sound snooty and condescending when they determine you to be a delinquent? Isn't it telling that I just referred to myself as a "delinquent"? Man, there must be some deep seated shit that happened when I was a kid for me to feel so shameful about missing my jury duty deadline. Could I possibly be one of those "postman's kids" that everyone refers to?

I went to college and I teach for a living, yet I couldn't figure out how to properly register from the summons that was mailed to me. If you do the math, that means there are potentially many others who didn't figure it out, either. Heck, I'd venture to guess that some mofos don't even call when they get those summonses. So when I get all anxious and show up for duty, as I've done twice now since I've been living in L.A., I'm actually one of the schmucks who is doing the right thing, the kind they always place on a gnarly triple homicide case that involves aliens and shit. The kind of case that lasts ten years. The kind of case where they run out of free coffee and snacks so you have to start packing a snack to make it through the everlasting deliberations.

This date that I picked in January is now sitting in my iCal calendar, silently throbbing and pulsating with light, much like the power light on this MacBook, waiting for me to forget about it, or lose the summons the next time I clean my room. Subconsciously, maybe that's my intention. It's the only way I can send a middle finger high in the air to the Man. Hey - I pay my taxes, stop at red lights, pick up the occasional bottle on the side of the road - so why can't I just have this one pass? Leave me alone.