Letter 89

October 10, 2011

Dear Mom,

I have yet another endless request to ask of you: I've just had the byzantine record-keeping of this place explained to me by my celly and found that I don't have nearly as much socked away as I thought. I don't wear socks. Since I don't, I traded them away. Anyhow, easy as it is for me to get continuously caught up in wordplay, I need to occasionally make a plainly comprehensible request for more in my account...please. Thank you very much, even if you decide not to send anything now.

Knowing that the countdown has begun is enough for me to tie my hopes to, as in less than a year I could be relatively free to do as I please. At the current rate, that is. Although the "here" is preferable by far than any other prison I've been in, no one wants to be here. We smurfs are doubly punished: The first way is by being incarcerated; the second and more demanding way, of course, is to be funneled through these programs for self improvement like we are.

This creates tremendous friction and even enmity between the counselors and smurfs, with some of the counselors taking on attributes of Gargamel. If I weren't directly involved, it would be funny. As it stands though, it isn't. At hand are also the following situations: Our microwave no longer works due to overuse likely, resulting in no one trying to replace it on a holiday and no way to heat up anything which leaves me stymied for a cup of hot coffee tomorrow morning. I suppose that, since I've gone as long as a year without any coffee at all, this currently shouldn't even represent a mild difficulty. They ought to be mindful of facts; specifically, that a microwave cannot be run continually and used to dry the occasional batch of laundry successfully.

We do quite a lot of our own washing and have nowhere for it to dry, as our cells are crowded and the guards come in and randomly take away any clotheslines we have. So, we adapt and use the microwave! It is a real hindrance to maintain an acceptably hygienic area...the guards are shooting themselves in the foot.

At least I laid in some siege supplies before the money dried up, so my celly and I are good for a week or ten days. I understand he was put here (prison) against his expectations and with no one to do anything for him on the other side of the gate. So, what I do is hire him for little jobs and pay him in food he won't ask for. That way, it is a win-win situation. He gets to keep his pride unblemished and I get a watchdog.

I just had a startling thought...I may have already passed up the last opportunity today to drop a letter in the mail. If I have, it isn't the crucial event I make it out to be, as the mail doesn't move on a federal holiday and will get to you just as quickly if mailed tomorrow. Anyhow, this is a glimpse into something of my personal world. Hopefully, you are still solid/stable mentally and emotionally and not scarred as I am.

Much love and regards, 
James