Well, I triple and quadruple checked the summons to appear. I could NOT find a DATE on the summons. To make sure we were going on the right date, I finally found the metro court phone number (not in the blue, gov't. pages, but the white pages of the phone book).
I don't appear until NEXT Wed. Yes, I FINALLY found it on the summons, but in the most cock-eyed, out-of-the-way place possible. It wasn't any where NEAR the day of week, time, room number and judge's name info.
So, I cried.
All this work to prepare. Ma took a day off work. She'll have a hard time juggling her schedule to be there next week.
It even threatened to cause a "bounce" in my bank acc't., as I was thinking we'd get the bond money back today.
I ordered a product called an "Easy Seat" off eBay. It's for my scooter. It's 2 platforms for the pelvis. It has no saddle horn, like regular bike seats. These horns cause me much pain, as my genitals are mutilated. Now, I just stand up to ride the scooter. The other day, I drove 25 mi, standing. The scooter has no suspension or shocks. Every bump is like being hit on the bottom of the foot with a hammer. It even makes the bike helmet Ma gave me hit me hard against the forehead. After 25 miles, my ankles, heels, knees, hips, back, neck, shoulders and head hurt pretty bad.
Ma's car needs a piston rod bearing. I'm planning to tear the car apart, take out the engine, open it and fix things. I'll clean it and replace all hoses, gaskets, etc., too, while I'm at it. Of course, it'll take me months to get it all done. We'll rent a cradle snatcher and I'll pull the engine out and place it on blocks, under a tarp, so I can work on it.
We won't have a car until I either: fix the old one or sell enough radio to buy a new one.
The good news about the court date is I'll be able to bail poor ol' Porkchop out of jail the day before. That's when his quarantine ends. Poor guy.
Taz misses him something awful. She's all insecure and needy now.
I'm feeling pretty bad. I'm achey. It's hard to catch my breath. I'm sick to the stomach. It's all the same symptoms I had when I had the first heart attack, while Ma was out of town. I haven't told her, though. She's got enough with her job, my warrant, Porky, the car...blah blah...
But I'm weak and it scares me. My legs, especially, are numb, tingling, hard to control.
It's a cold day. I've spent it all in the house with Ma. She just now got dressed and went in to work. She probably won't be back until after ten pm. I worry about her out there in the weather, in the dark, on that bicycle. But she loves it. She really does. It's her thing. Watching her on her bike, as I ride along on my scooter, I see how graceful and powerful she is on it. She's much more at ease on the bike than on foot. But this town if full of people who drive drunk and aggressively.
So, I don't get any answers for another week yet. I've waited this long.
I feel no shame or embarrassment about this. I was STALKED. The bastard STOLE my dogs, and one's tags. THAT's why the citation, which I didn't get because I ended up homeless. And that's why the citation went to failure to appear warrant.
I was BEATEN and nearly raped when I was supposed to appear in court. I was homeless within a week.
I'm having some delayed stress stuff. Normally, I would have SEEN the court date, even IF it was way on the other side of the paper, several lines above the rest of the info.
And I wouldn't have taken chances like that with my bank acc't., either.
But I can't afford genital reconstructive surgery. I can only afford a new bike seat that doesn't hurt me so bad. And I need it soon.
I'm sad and tired and weak.
But I'm very well loved, and that counts for more than anything. She's been very nice to me since this happened. She's been more affectionate and attentive than ever. And she was always very caring.
So, the rest of the day, unfortunately, is a matter of "doing time," waiting to feel better, waiting for warmer weather.
I've started on the garden. I've worked more on my chicken coop.
But today is cold and gloomy. I can't go out there very long.
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