I live to serve

Although I will not actually be required to serve. After postponing my Civic Duty twice (Time 1: Nine Months Pregnant; Time 2: Three Months After Pregnant) I finally got myself down to the Hall of Justice, resigned to a ten-day Grand Jury adventure, which I choose to think of as a reality show. I made it through the parking lot (not reimbursable), security (do not let your toes cross the yellow line before you are called), and last-minute opportunities to postpone again (so tempting), only to be eliminated by a good old raffle-style drawing. Yes, the Commissioner of Jurors stood at the front of the room and drew names out of a box. I sat there debating (on the inside, thanks for your faith in my sanity) whether I wanted to be called or not, which as it turns out has no bearing on what actually happens. I was one of six people from my group who didn't get called, while twenty-three people did. Grand Juries are not the kind of things you can get out of by spewing bigotry or pleading incontinence, because they didn't ask anyone any questions before they got picked. Because I didn't beg off yet again I got credit for serving this time, despite my lack of actual service. I am officially off the jury selection market for the next six years.