It Don't Pay to be an Honest Citizen

I've been thinking in this vein for a couple of weeks now and it disturbs me.  Yes, my thinking can be a little twisty but I tend to do things like obey the law.  Partly, this is because to keep my job I can't be convicted of a criminal offense but it's mostly a fear of failing.  Failure to follow the rules leaves me feeling guilty and I have guilt issues aplenty without piling fresh ones on top.

So, other than the odd turn through the growing up phase where I smoked pot, drank too much, sometimes drove while inebriated, and did other things I'm not very proud of, I'm just about as straight an arrow as they come.  I don't speed through residential areas or playground zones.  I don't text or answer my phone while driving.  I always try to just go along and get along.  But this new development makes me ramble and froth at the mouth so click the cut at your own peril.

( Which is why all this pisses me off so much.... )

I think I get why criminals are criminals now.  They are because they can be, because they've never had to or don't care about the people they hurt or the consequences of their actions.  By defending my untraditional family, I will be at risk of becoming a criminal, but you know what, it don't fucking pay to be an honest citizen so why the fuck not.

Falling Down

Literally.

Last week, I was in a hurry to get the million dollar house checked and forgot to take the key with me, forcing me to return home and pick it up.  Annoyed with myself and distracted by the jackass who lives in the apartment under us (god I wanted to run into him and introduce my fist to his face), I missed the bottom two steps of the carpeted staircase and fell.  I bounced off the radiator, off the steps, dropped the Crackberry and came to rest in a very unnatural position on the landing between the second and third floors.

My first thought wasn't my aching body or twisted limbs, it was for the Crackberry because if I was bleeding in the hallway, no one would come to help.  Once I saw the phone was good (the case had popped off, absorbing the impact and leaving the Torch untouched) I tested all my limbs and other than my left shoulder being borked, I was good.  I went on with my errands for the day and it wasn't until I got home that I realized I hurt like hell.

I was in a sling for a couple of days but it appears I was bruised more than anything - other than embarrassed that I fell down the stairs.  And I was right, not a fucking person opened a door to see if I was okay. Which is probably for the best, I'd have torn someone's head off to make meat tacos.