Death Smells Like A Nice Pesto Sauce

I let her die.

I blame myself.

I brought her into my yard during the summer and nurtured her, let the sun shine on her, and then...I made a mistake.

I forgot about her. I didn't cover her up one night when it got a little too cold and three days later she was dead.

I had big plans for her. I had given her a little trim now and then, putting bits of her in some of my pasta dishes with a little olive oil, garlic and tomatoes but I had really been saving her for my first attempt at a tasty pesto sauce.

Now, I have to go with store bought Basil and for that I am sorry. My only regret is that I now have to get my hands dirty and pull the dead plant out of front yard.

Sorry, I'm just bummed out. Christmas does that to me sometimes.

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Where am I and what am I doing? Lets see. I was ready to submit my letter of resignation to the head of my office about a month ago.

I was tired of the political BS that seems to go hand in hand with working in Public Defender offices around budget time, but mostly I was tired of always being up to my eyeballs in work without a break in sight.

Things have eased up a bit since I wrote my letter, but since I live and work in California where most PD offices will be figuring out in January (when they find out what money that are NOT getting from the state) who and what needs to be cut from the office budget to survive...I might be out of a job anyway.

I prefer not to think about it too much because work has actually gotten better and I'm enjoying working my cases again. I've done this by not getting involved with the outcome of every case, and really digging into the cases that need extra attention. Maybe I'm excited by the reality that having a job for the first few months of next year is totally out of my hands?

How fucked up is that? Yeah, I've got problems.