rinue | Thimble Full of Whine

I need to get rid of my friends. They're good people, and I like them, but they always want to *do* stuff with me, which strongly impairs my ability to be a hermit. At least four of them want me to hang out with them tomorrow evening, and I suspect there would be more if I was not deliberately obfuscating the fact that I'm currently in town. It's unreasonable, I tell you. How am I supposed to be a tortured artist when everyone is determined to *like* me?

I spent most of the morning acting righteous and affronted, although not about this repellant "friend" issue. Instead, I was writing a letter to the Wythe District Court about my traffic ticket. I'm demanding a jury trial and the service of a competent defense lawyer - both of which they're required to provide me under constitutional law. (God bless America.) This made me quite happy, because I got to quote the Constitution all over the place, and it may be my favorite document ever written. I'm hoping/wagering that they'll be annoyed enough with me that they'll drop the case in hopes of never, ever having to deal with me again. Besides, it would be uneconomical not to, for a $30 ticket. (If you find yourself in a similar situation, check out Article VI and Amendments VI and VII.)

In other news, I've been going through some old story ideas of mine, and have found some truly wonderful snips that I never developed and had completely forgotten about. This is terribly comforting, because it's been a long time since I've written an original story. (There have been plays, but that's *very* different.) And recently, I've been so non-productive that it's *bleeding* me. (This I blame partially on the "too many friends" issue, which I intend to go into in greater depth, but not right now.)

I need to stop stalling and *write*.