Post-Sentencing...

After the verdict, she and Cordelia meet for drinks at the Rusty Rabbit to celebrate the fact that she got off with just a slap on the wrist. She and Cordelia have only been friends a short while, but have shared the same hell.

The weather had gone crisp while she had been in the courtroom. She had said a courteous farewell to Katherine who had agreed to meet her for coffee later in the month to discuss the firefly blogs. As she drove toward the pub, she twirled the idea of serving at the mental hospital for a day. Twenty-four hours could be a long time or a short while. It all depended.

Exiting the car, she pulled her jacket tightly around her thinning shoulders and headed into the Rusty Rabbit where she and Cordelia often met up to discuss life's little annoyances. Tonight they were celebrating over vegetarian pizza and microbrews.

"So, you got off, did you? You lucky bitch," Cordelia greeted her.

"Not entirely," she responded. "I have to do 24 hours of community service at St. Nick's and pay the man's med bills."

"St. Nick's? That's the..." Cordelia started.

"I know," she returned. "What was I going to do, say "Gee Judge, that place is scary and I'd rather serve at the state prison serving sloppy joes to the lifers," I don't think so!"

She looked down at the floor. St. Nick's was a little frightening in that it housed those people in the community who not only had documented mental illness - ranging from somewhat mild to the severe, but who also had committed major crimes. Typically those felons who were sentenced in conjunction with an "insanity" plea, ended up there, permanently.

"So what are you going to have to do there?" Cordelia asked, taking a sip of her beer. "You're not going to have to check in or anything, are you?"

"No," she laughed. "But it may not be a bad idea considering I'm a bit on the temperamental side."

After dinner, she bid farewell to Cordelia, with whom she promised to share her experience. As she drove home, she considered mental illness, considered what it may feel like to detach from one's sanity and let lunacy wreak havoc on society.

She came to the following conclusion, smiling as she did:

It must be the defining characteristic of being a modern woman.

Can they really lock you up for that?