Tonight’s New Year’s Eve, my favorite holiday. Another thing the freeloaders stole from me. But not totally. Tom said to me on the phone today how he’d like to celebrate Christmas, my birthday, and the new year when I get out and make up for all we’ve lost together. How sweet of him. It’s another thing I can look forward to, in the midst of all I have to not look forward to.

He also offered to visit more, but I know how hectic Sundays are. He needs his days off to himself, and I can hardly hear him over all the people who visit on Sundays anyway.

He offered to put $30 a week in which would be even better than $20. Just knowing the money was there, even if I don’t use it all, makes me feel better. I want to get more hard candy and less chocolate so it lasts longer since I can’t chew gum here.

Although I know there’s no way I’ll get out of here before 4/29, he still thinks I will, but not because of anything he does. He thinks the jail will review me and let me out early after seeing how well I behave. He said he doesn’t think the inmates are really aware of this. I can’t imagine this happening, though. If it were something that happened, I’m sure I’d have heard about it. Besides, that sounds more like something that’d happen in prison, not jail.

Ruby’s still here, and if she gets out, it won’t be till next week after she talks to classification. I guess they fucked up on the computer.

By no means am I desperate to escape Carolyn and Monday, but they won’t always let me sleep. After our hour out at 9:00 this morning, they wouldn’t let me go back to sleep! They were talking on and off and wouldn’t even pretend to try to talk softly. They’re fine cellies when you’re awake. They don’t stink and don’t beg for my radio, but trying to get any sleep with them around is hit or miss. Carolyn said I should be more tolerable, but there’s only so much a person can tolerate, and they need to do their share of compromising, too. They can’t expect to throw all the compromising on me. I also made it clear to them that I won’t respect their sleep if they don’t respect mine.

I told Carolyn I sometimes wake up grouchy and not to take it personally.

“But we do take it personally,” she said.

“Well, that’s your problem then,” I told her. “I can’t worry and be responsible for how you may react to things. All I can do is tell you like it is and then you handle it however you’re going to handle it.”

The nurse surprised me by bringing me my allergy spray on his evening rounds, but they’re still out of the asthma inhaler. This nose spray is better because it sprays a finer mist like the lung inhalers. The other ones were like squirting water up my nose, but with this one, I don’t even need to dab at my nose with a tissue afterward.

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It’s late afternoon right now. Carolyn, who’s sick to her stomach, is getting a taste of her own medicine and experiencing a good old-fashioned case of karma. The assholes out on their hour were keeping her up. Actually, she slept most of the day, which was the only reason I could get caught up on my sleep, but she wanted to sleep longer than I did. Yet even the DOs don’t have any respect, as Carolyn would find out when the rude dickhead we got on tonight went banging on tables. I’m sure Carolyn will steal my sleep (along with Monday) tomorrow and the next day, but today it’s nice to see that God, or something, took care of Carolyn and showed her what it’s like to ask someone the simple little favor of lowering their voice, only to be ignored.

Karma got Carolyn, but what about the freeloaders? Yeah, what about the freeloaders? That’s another good title for this book - What About the Freeloaders?!?!

Tom’s Christmas gifts consisted of a new shirt (he always gets a new shirt), a weird stuffed animal in a box, a wrench, and an electronic toy.

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It’s about 10 PM now. Earlier we had another disappointing dinner; a cold, greasy hot dog with a little scoop of potato salad, a couple of pieces of cauliflower, and 5 crackers.

I can’t wait for commissary!

It’s going to be a long boring night for me. I can only read and write so much. I can only sleep so much, too.

Monday says she’s going to sleep as much as she can tomorrow because she has to be pulled for court at 2 AM. I treasure any time I can get with just one celly. With her gone, Carolyn won’t be chatting, and fortunately, she doesn’t talk to herself.

I’m getting a copy of this thing called Hart vs. MCSO through a tank order. It’s about a girl who took this place to court to better the living conditions around here. According to what I read in Carolyn’s copy (she’s rude, yet she’s enlightened me) it’s illegal for them to put more than 2 people in these small cells. I’m going to tank the captain and ask him why MCSO (Maricopa County Sheriff’s Office) can break the law, but we can’t. Then I’m going to send my copy home to Tom and see if he can have it investigated. It pisses me off, even scares me, to know that no investigators check up on things around here periodically. There’s got to be someone Tom can contact to stop them from putting 3 of us in here like this, as well as to maybe get some hot showers here, too.