Decided to celebrate tonight: Bacon-wrapped filet mignon on the grill, a pint of Yeti Imperial Stout, and a Cohiba. Why? Well, I had quite a bit left over from this paycheck, and… the lawsuit was dropped. By the plaintiff’s attorney, no less. Seems he discovered that she lost her criminal case, and realized that if they continued with the suit, they would be open for a counter-suit for harassing lawsuits; so he filed to dismiss. So, that’s over; and possibly the quickest 42 USC 1983 lawsuit ever.

And lemme tell ya, I’ve become a lightweight; a pint of stout has me buzzed six ways to sunday. Reminds me why I don’t drink. The little bits of the subconscious that float up to the surface, borne on carbonated bubbles of alcohol.

And my left foot hurts. I woke up Wednesday with what felt like a stone bruise on my left heel, but how the hell did I manage that in my sleep? I wish I could remember the dream, because it must have been a good one. Has gotten somewhat better, but still hurts; like a deep bruise across the inside of my heel just below the ankle.

Anyway. Next week I’ll be in Forsyth again, this time for Standardized Field Sobriety Testing Instructor, provided I pass the test on the first day. It’s been a while since I’ve done any SFST, so it’s a good question whether or not I remember it well enough.