I shouldn't write these "Real Time" in Book One: The Not So Daily Briefs 2014

Monday after Thanksgiving. As far as crime and courts; that means since last Wednesday afternoon… every individual that broke the law and could not pay a “booking bond” has been languishing in jail waiting for this day. We were all a little apprehensive about today. After all, imagine it. Wednesday afternoon/evening, all day Thursday, all day Friday, all day Saturday, all day Sunday.... that could be a lot of different crimes!!

Ultimately, though, it turned out to be like… well… like waiting for the Star Wars Prequels. There was a lot of buildup, a lot of holding our breaths with fear… and, in actuality, we still left court before 4pm. There have been normal days where we don’t get out that early. Of course- the skeptical and concerned aspects of my mind fear over this. Did Ferguson issues mute police activity over the weekend? After all, even though we are Nebraska- anytime racial disharmony is in the news- a huge number of black inmates appear suddenly claiming that they shouldn’t have been forcefully incarcerated. Which sounds nice on paper… except these criminals have no “just cause” for their issues… these are, often, individuals that have been incarcerated (numerous times) for extremely violent crimes. We had a guy try to claim police brutality because he was tazered… but he was tazered trying to knife his girlfriend after punching out a bouncer.

Anyway… the politics and analyzation of the truly criminal is for anther day. Court today was boring, is the real point.

When I got home, the lights were all off and my wife was on the couch. The Citalopram withdrawal is wracking serious damage with her. Full body humming, pulsing, headaches… she’s just going through the ringer here. Of course, my husband instinct is to take care of her, make things easier… so I’ve been making her food, fetching blankets, trying to do the best I can. It sucks.

Then my dad called. He and his brother have decided to give my wife and I a second “gift” to help with loans. The problem with that is a lecture. Listen… I know I’m 30 and haven’t done anything with my life. I get that. I also know that I am the only one in the family with a marriage that is… less than stable. I understand how that looks. My wife is 34 and we don’t have plans to make a baby soon because I don’t have a job, I haven’t passed the bar, and my wife is in a job that she hates that makes shitty hours and shitty money. But… I mean… a lecture? Yeah, my wife and I have enough money to pay off the student debt but then we’d be broke. I appreciate receiving money from my parents in order to help… I do. In fact, one of my Prosebox Friends is about to be evicted and I would love to send them money to help! But… I haven’t sent money… I haven’t even sent money to my favorite charities since starting law school because I know money is tight. But… n0pe! My dad felt the need to lecture me on how important it is to pay off my student loans… how I need to prioritize and put all of my money into that. DUDE… DAD… I don’t have a job, I haven’t even passed the bar yet!!! His response, of course, was to let me know that he and mom would never let me be homeless, would always be willing to help my wife and I should we need it.... but, dude… at some point I need to stand on my own. I’m not going to liquidate all of my assets because my dad is afraid of 7% loan interest rates. But of course… I’ll swallow all of that. I won’t confront my father on this because I understand his fear. His parents always had his back; yeah, he worked for everything and he didn’t coast… but he never had college debt. When he needed a job, his father had the connections to get him an entry level position. My dad constantly apologizes to me that he doesn’t know any lawyers. He feels terrible that he can’t do for me what his father did for him. I love him for his concern… I know that nothing I say will make him worry less, he’ll worry until I have a steady income and I can be the man that takes his family on vacation… finally get my wife that Honeymoon. Until then… he’ll be the guy that gives a shit ton of money, gives a bunch of lectures, and that is okay,

After that conversation with my dad, my wife and I watched a movie. It was, in its way, I guess a documentary. It was a film called TABLOID about Joyce McKinney. Watching the interviews? Hearing the story? I won’t judge the specifics of the legal case and… this may sound brutally cruel.... So… Joyce McKinney is crazy. Whatever may have happened during the criminal case mentioned in the movie… the woman is most assuredly certifiable. However.. she is insane in an almost identical way as to Ki the woman who physically, emotionally, mentally, and sexually abused me. McKinney’s story is particularly dramatic because of the international criminal angle, the spiritual scandal angle, and the fact that Joyce McKinney was a beauty queen. So clearly… the story is much more dramatic and media-friendly than my own personal history. But viewing the film was eerily like watching a Celebrity Version of that time and that person. Again- called Tabloid, check it out if you have 87 minutes.

After Tabloid, the wife and I watched some Agents of SHIELD… a show I’ve been enjoying but… wanting more from. Every once in a while we get a little taste of what the show could REALLY do… introduce characters and events into the Marvel Cinematic Universe that are too impractical to force into a movie… but.... I understand why the Disney Overlords aren’t letting them reach their full potential. We got to the LaAaST episode of the season… only 45 minutes away from watching how it all ends… when CRASH!

A board we have by the front door for various tidbits and announcements fell down. Again. It has always been haphazardly placed as the board has no holes to facilitate placement and instead my wife has been balancing it between two nails. It has fallen down quite frequently in the last several months. Clearly my wife is finished with it. Because… when she couldn’t get the board back up, she threw everything that had fallen off into the kitchen and screamed. I reminded myself that she is feeling shitty because of withdrawal from a psychotropic SSRI but… I mean… emotional outburst coupled with a tantrum… hard to deal with when the subject if 34 and on a full-on rage bender. I tried to help; even showed her the video below… but she began to wildly vacillate between rage and silence. I think she knows logically that taking her fury out on me doesn’t make sense and isn’t fair… but I think it also adds to her frustration that she doesn’t know how else to express it.