It's not easy having a celly

June 20, 2011 2:36 a.m.

Hello! Sorry, I meant to write earlier but I was so tired that I lay down around 7:30 p.m. Yeah, heat on top of the long hours on my feet at work. But it’s pleasant to be working, and in the A/C most of the day.  Once I get used to the schedule, I’ll be fine.

Glad to hear from you today!  I finally got moved again, so I’m not in the cell with that particular idiot, though I’m sure they’ll give me something equally distasteful in the next few days. At the moment, I’m by myself, which you know, is ideal for me.

Up early so I can pick up my hypertension meds and I have a lay-in for some blood work at 4 a.m. Yeah, horrible time, but I’ve skipped it twice now so…just makes for a long day.  I’ll maintain.

Got a visit from my uncle this Saturday.  Always a pleasure. You guys really restored my faith in good people!  He’s so busy all the time, I almost feel guilty for the time he takes for me. And you have kept pretty busy as well!  That’s good, because you seem overjoyed when busy, which is cool.

If I failed to thank you and Joe for the spider stuff, allow me to thank you.  And thank you for all that you do!  That was indeed useful info, and what I had was cellar spiders.  Of course, I had to leave them behind in my old cell.  Right now though, my time for pets is limited.  I barely have time for myself.

Cool card you sent!  I think it might have riled the Warden’s feathers a bit, but he’ll be okay. Hasn’t said anything to me about it.  I really don’t care how he feels.  He still hasn’t replaced my property yet, so we’ll see.

I do intend to do some writing here in the coming days.  Right now I have no down time at work due to putting book jacket flaps in the back of the books and cataloging the 102 new books we just received.  And my free time is “zero” until I get in a groove, but bear with me.

Unfortunately, I’m sitting in the infirmary and away from your letters, but I’ll make it a point to go back and respond.  The living conditions are much better where I am now than where I was, so that’s another plus. I don’t mind accepting my blessing in doses.

Well, I hope I’ve eased your mind.  I know that you worry about me, Mom.

Love.

P.S. Sure I’m forgetting something, but you know where my head and my heart are.

June 25, 2011 3:09 p.m.

Well, my joy was short lived.  Yeah, I know.  Imagine how I feel.  You know, I try to be optimistic.  I really do, but… I hold so much inside.  It seems like I’m the only one with any understanding, with any consideration, and it’s frustrating.

Again, they’ve put an idiot in the cell with me.  I wish I could just stay at work.  Really.  You try to be nice to people, and I know this dude has enough snap to know what he’s doing…makes me want to beat the hell out of him.  I’m sorry, it’s true.  Maybe that’s all some people understand.  I won’t, but it would make me feel better.  I’ve been in the hot dayroom all morning until just minutes ago.  That’s half of the day.  Yet, I come to the cell and it looks like a Chinese Laundromat.  My clothesline is hanging full of his wet and still dirty clothes.  It’s against the rules to have a clothesline up before six p.m.  Everyone knows that.  Then he’s sitting in here on the toilet in his boxers, writing a 60-page letter.  More so because I’ve given him all day to himself, and I’d like to have some time to myself, too.  As of now, I’d have to ask him to move so I can pee, or workout, and I’m not into asking permission, especially in my cell.  Of course, I could tell him to get his stupid ass out of my way before I beat him half to death, but that would get me sent to lock up.

I told him he can use my radio, so I don’t mind him wearing my headphones, at least he’s not talking to me.  He never shuts the hell up.  The point is, it isn’t going to work.  I can’t stand to have someone on top of me all the time.  And he’s a “cluck.”  A “crash dummy.”  He can’t think.  Stupid people infuriate me.  He comes in saying that he’s a “Christian.”  But he chain smokes, justifying it with “we all have fault.”  Well, when you choose to smoke your food, it’s your fault that I won’t feed you.

Jan, I know it sounds like I’m ranting, but a man needs time to himself in this place or you’ll go crazy.  A man needs to be alone with his thoughts, be able to use the bathroom, workout, bathe, write, work, whatever, in peace, without somebody constantly two feet away from you, especially someone you have nothing in common with.  Part of me wants to tell him “get the fxxx out of here and don’t come back until rack time,” but I don’t want people scared of me anymore.  I just want to be left alone.  In here, it’s a common courtesy to give your celly alone time, that’s understood. Yet, I work ten hours a day, leaving him about five hours to himself and he still insists on being in here right on top of me. Can’t win for losing.

I’m frustrated and pissed right now.  Maybe, hopefully I’ll feel better later.