Well, remarkably little to report; we all watched a hideous video called 'Being a Juror', with little snatches of fake funk music and a grade-b actress telling us in a deep coo not to be afraid while threatening us at the same time with fines for non-attendance; friendly fines, of course.
Was the actor playing the court clerk wearing a wig or was that his real hair? We shall never know.
Everyone there looked so grumpy yesterday, as though they were going to find all defendants guilty, just out of spite.
After six hours of blank time (which I rather liked), they sent us home.
Today, the barristers stood in casual groups watching us come in, pretending they weren't sussing us out. Ahead of me, a middle-aged man in an anorak was stopped and searched. A large rock with a number written on it in black felt pen was taken out of his pocket.
"I'm a scientist', he explained.
The rock was taken away and bagged up to be returned to him later.
I've read two Reader's Digests from cover to cover (ugh), the whole of today's Guardian newspaper, half a P G Wodehouse book, which as usual made me snort with laughter, and finished some song lyrics for a song called Glasgow Train. I've sat and gazed, eaten a banana and an apple, drunk two cups of coffee, and managed to avoid talking to anyone so far.
Meanwhile, I've had a look at the cover of the Christmas EP, which is a masterpiece of colourful retro fun. I still can't believe it managed to happen. I've listened to it and it's really not bad at all.
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