After 40 hours with no toilet, the lazy plumber finally fixed next door’s toilet.

Mary and Ida were cracking up over how I was torturing Julia the second time. When she was sitting hunched over on the toilet, I pumped a drop of lotion onto the back of her neck while I was standing above her on the desk that’s right by the toilet. On her way out she told me I was an idiot.

I said, “That’s it? Can’t you be more original than that?” I laughed her right on out of here. I’m not normally that rude and childish myself, but I hate what she did to Ida and I can’t stand liars.

Last night I offered Johnson a piece of candy. She wanted some peanuts instead so I gave her a few. Now she’s saying things in German to me regularly. As if I would know what the hell she’s saying? I ought to hit her with some Spanish. (this was before I knew she knew that, too)

My, my, Officer R. D. Johnson, I do believe I have a crush on you!

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During my visit with Tom, I filled him in on life in this place and he filled me in on his life out in the real world. He’s going to work this Saturday. They’re getting closer to their conversion at work. That’ll take place on 2/23, the day Mary and Dave go to Laughlin. He’s going to do Ma’s taxes, and I guess that’s about it. God, I love and miss him! I just want to go home!!!!!

I waited forfuckingever after the visit, and crazy Melinda was cussing me out when I yelled over to her in the next room. She was telling the DOs I was her keep-away. Damn right about that one!

I don’t know if this will ever come to pass, but it’d be nice if it did. Ida, who’s rather affluent from what she tells me, has accumulated a lot of stuff over the years. She has a few silk palm trees that you can take apart so they’ll fit in a car. She’s talked about wanting to get rid of some junk. Well, maybe I can type up a story for her in exchange for something like this. She says she wants to write a book about some family secret, but because of her arthritis, she might talk into tapes for me to type up. This would be an awesome deal – typing, which is fun for me, for something I’ve been wanting for the house.

Ron doesn’t like to travel, so Ida makes most of her trips alone. One of them was to Egypt, she told me, where she ended up at this guy’s house, who treated his wife and mother like slaves.

First she was appalled by the way they all ate out of the same dish with their hands. They were offended when she asked for a fork.

Then she was grossed out by what she found on their apartment rooftop, and when she got up there, she said she saw similar sights on other rooftops. The guy literally had a farm up there with all kinds of livestock to feed his family. Not only that but there was also a heaping pile of garbage up there and it stunk. He said everyone puts their trash up there because they only come twice a year to pick it up.

Anyway, she ended up buying jewelry from him at his store, and when she gave his wife a $30 Timex watch, she was so grateful that she kissed Ida’s hand and began to get down to kiss her feet, but Ida was like, “No, no, that’s not necessary!”

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Got a grievance back from the 19th. That sure took a while. This was the one where I bitched about nurses waking us up when we can put medical tanks out if we’re sick, or be up to tell them ourselves. They replied saying Hart vs. MCSO requires them to do medical checks 3 times a week, yet now I’m being woken up before they even start with their are-you-OKs. The DOs wake us up first yelling – medical tanks! But I get woken up half a dozen times as it is. What’s one more time?

I can’t wait to be home, sipping coffee as I type this up and turning to watch the prairie dogs roam our beautiful land.

Can’t wait to hear the sound of the door opening as Tom comes home, then to run into his arms for hugs and kisses. Sorry Palma, you’re only jailhouse eye candy.

Thank God Tom is as tolerant as he is because I know I’ll be repeating these jailhouse stories for years, just like with other stories. He’s smart, though. He knows I’m repetitious.

I’m grieving Pancake Face Smith, as worthless as I know it’ll be. It just really bothers me how poorly she handles things. Julia broke out with a rash, and Mary, fearing it may be contagious, called for Smith. When she finally got Smith’s attention, Smith wouldn’t take the matter seriously until she saw the rash with her own eyes.

What if it were a matter of life and death? God help me if I should be sick or injured with her on duty! If she can’t handle dealing with inmates’ problems, although I’ll admit that most aren’t serious, she should consider a job change.

A part of me misses A Tower. I miss Rosa, the mice, and even though Lopez says they’ve been floating Palma around a lot lately, I’ll bet she’s in A at least twice a week. I’ve only seen her a few times since she moved me here to M. Then again, if she worked here two or more times a week, that may make it all the harder to say goodbye come April 29th. If I left M I’d miss Ida and Mary. And Johnson, Pérez and Temple, who don’t seem to work A as much.

I’ll put Pancake Face Smith’s grievance out on the next shift. At least she rarely works M! This is only the second time since I’ve been here, thank God.

Ida and I are doing our own thing right now. She’s pacing and I’m up on my bunk listening to music. Same old thing every day.

Six o’clock already I was just in the middle of a dream…

Pace, pace, pace, pace…

I was kissing R. D. Johnson by a crystal blue Italian stream…

Pace, pace, pace, pace…

But I can’t be late or else I guess I just won’t get paid…

Pace, pace, pace, pace…

These are the days when you wish Ida would just sit still…

Pace, pace, pace, pace…

It’s just another manic celly…

Pace, pace, pace, pace…