Woke up this morning and my back was aching. On top of it being busy at work, have been cutting thick art board which is a particularly heavy type of stock. A big job, is coming through slowly each day from the digital printers, so is ongoing for a few more days yet. Got up and put my shirt on, but just couldn't go to work. Back and neck really sore. Took some Panadol and lay back down. It helped a bit, settling things down somewhat. Thought about going in late but when the boss rang (he had a new phone and I hadn't got the number yet) he said there didn't seem much point as the work day would be half over by the time I got in.
Explained what happened. Dunno if he believed me or not, which really shits me. I mean even when I get a doctors certificate he says something like "It's easy to get one of them", like I'm fuckin making it all up. I do all the right things and even then he questions if I was actually sick. Pisses me off even more because he's one of the few at work who know I'm HIV+. Maybe it's because I'm looking healthy now that people forget. The sore back is simply part of recovering too, as the muscles I guess are still coming back to where they were before I got sick. I mean it's not bloody rocket science, he should know that.
Stopped at the pub after work yesterday, which I guess wasn't the smartest thing to do for getting to work the next day. I always end up having a bit much at that particular pub, oh well shoot me. Not going to get out the whip and flagellate myself over it. It was an enjoyable time there anyway. Word has gotten around the pub about my little episode with the cops the other night and people who I don't even know were saying G'day to me, what a laugh. It's my 5 minutes of fame darlings!
The reason I despise the local cops goes back to 2009 when they took me to court and tried to get my own daughter to testify against me. Long story, but it turned out they had stuffed up their paperwork and her testimony was the only one left admissible in court (they couldn't even use their own arresting officer's testimony). By that stage my daughter just wanted to drop the charges and had tried to do so months before, before it got to court. The cops though wanted none of it and went ahead with it. They just wanted points on the board and didn't give a shit about what happened to me, or what was left of my family. Or that I was suicidal.
It was quite a scene outside the courtroom. My daughter a few metres away being spoken to by a cop who wanted her to testify against me, to hold up their case. She was crying and saying she didn't want to. My solicitor was watching, said "Look at what they're doing. This family's been to hell and back, and just look at what they're doing." A bit later he called her to come into a side room so he could talk to her alone. The cops didn't want him speaking with him, but he put his foot down saying "I can talk to who I like". He then said to her in private that the cops were relying on her as the only witness, and to refuse to testify when in the stand. She had already told the cops she was going to do just that.
In the courtroom she was called into the stand and it was a bit of discussion with the magistrate and solicitors as to whether she was allowed to not testify, as that may be against the court or something. Eventually the magistrate decided that she was within her rights to refuse, and the whole case fell over there and then. Magistrate said the relationship between father and daughter was more important and "the charges are dismissed", much to the embarrassment and angst of the attending police.
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