I am three days into my jury duty and all is well. All is well because I have mainly sat around reading and writing (and who would have thought I would have ended up writing so much about Frankenstein?) and because I have been on a case and there may be more to come tomorrow.
I am not too shocked by the daily get up-get ready-and-go routine, as I have realised that, after all, that’s what I normally do, even if just to get myself out of the house and to Starbucks to work. Yet, I know that deep inside I already cannot wait for it to be over. I want to catch up with Louise and Merv and with Britt and baby and with Dee and Mac and being unable to glance at the clock wondering whether Marks may still have some of the baguettes that Rick likes and no big deal if they don’t, I’ll go tomorrow, isn’t that great.
I knew that I would have craved unconditional freedom five minutes after it was taken from me which is really making me think about the whole job situation. As I won’t be able not to work for ever (sob), I hope that my eventual university job will be as exciting as the PhD has been because, right now, I’d be quite happy to play Socrates forever, sitting under a fig tree, reading books and philosophising about life and death. But then, who wouldn’t like that?
