The Injustice of it all… the Lawyer Pot revisited, carpel tunnel bruising and Jamba dreams
I've spent a good part of this past week and most of this past weekend preparing and writing a letter of response to a bankruptcy trustee in Las Vegas, Nevada. My ex-husband, (to be kind) is a slippery bastard! One of those first-class deadbeats that will do anything to get out of paying his due! His latest scheme in getting out of paying me my half of our business that he owes me from our divorce settlement is to file bankruptcy in Las Vegas, Nevada where he lives and list my judgment against him in the bankruptcy. This ploy just might work, he might be successful. And because of this latest development in my ongoing court battles with my ex-husband, the
Lawyer Pot must be revisited. I have to hire a bankruptcy attorney in Las Vegas and file an Objection. More attorney fees, more court costs, and this time travel expenses too, for I’ll have to go to court in Las Vegas.
I finally finished my letter of response this afternoon and I noticed that my right wrist was hurting and it was bruised. All of the extra typing I’ve done this weekend has caused a flare up of my ongoing battle with carpel tunnel (I type for a living). I showed a friend, (who was proofing my letter for me), the bruising on my wrist this afternoon and he said it was from all the angry typing I had done.
“Angry typing?” I asked.
“Yeah.” My friend said.
“What do you mean, angry typing?” I asked confused.
“With every word you typed in this letter, you were thinking… fuck you, I hate you, you fucking bastard, you and that skanky blonde bitch whore you cheated on me with, fuck you both, fuck your illegitimate baby you had with the blonde bitch whore, fuck you for not paying me what you owe me, fuck you for making me take you to court over and over again and still not paying me what you owe me, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” My friend explained.
“Oh!” I said astonished. “You’re probably right, no wonder my wrist is bruised.”
“Mm hmm. It’s amazing your keyboard is still intact.” My friend said smiling.
After this revelation and a discussion of the injustice of the entire court system, my friend and I headed to the ‘happiest place on earth’, no not Disneyland, but the local ‘happiest place on earth’
Jamba Juice. I love everything about Jamba Juice! I love the bright yellows, oranges, and greens used in their color schemes. I love the big yellow umbrellas outside. I love the roar of the blenders making delicious juice treats for smiling customers. I love the hard working cheerful youthful staff. But I especially love the creamsicle
Orange Dream Machine smoothies! They are my new comfort food.
Jamba Juices in hand and smiles on our faces… I told my friend of a recent dream of mine to own a Jamba Juice located downtown. A Jamba Juice coffee-house-style with big fluffy chairs and sofas, local art on the walls, local musicians playing for customers, local authors books being sold on consignment, a place that I myself would want to hang out in. Besides Jamba Juices, there would be local Jamba books, Jamba art, and Jamba music comprising a great Jamba scene. Can’t you just picture it now… Mel’s Jamba in that big corner space of the Padre with all those windows and the big yellow umbrellas outside on the sidewalk tables.
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