My waist is up to 30½. That’s a big waist for a five-footer. Maybe someday I’ll lose weight, but I don’t know. I’d only gain it right back, so what’s the point? I’m middle-aged. I’m supposed to be overweight.

Anyway, I see tons of thick gray clouds in the east with a few individual storm cells and bolts of lightning, but I know it won’t make it here. It’s like storms are afraid to come over this particular area.

I’m about to finish up with the 1994 file.

Later…

Soon I’ll be coming up to the last few hours of my day which are my least favorite. That’s when I’m too tired to really do anything, but not tired enough to sleep, so I end up just laying around bored till I finally do knock off.

Sure enough, the clouds cleared and it’s as bright and sunny as most days are in Arizona. Getting hot too, and it’s not even 10:00 yet.

I still feel like something’s teasing me with my singing, even though I only wish to do it for fun and no longer smoke. Every time I sing I have some sort of problem hindering me, be it inhaler congestion, burping, a tickle in my throat, etc.

Just like I spent several years being mad at God for not allowing me a kid, it seems I spend most time being mad at him for his dual standards these days. It was okay for Nancy K to threaten me, the very thing I was supposed to be there for, but it’s not ok for me. No, I can’t threaten anyone. God help me should I lash out, mildly or not so mildly, at those who harass and torment me that I would’ve otherwise ignored had I been left alone by them.

Why must I always be made to pay for someone else’s hatred, stupidity or incompetence?!

Damn my own stupidity too, for not beating the snot out of that black bitch when she came screaming at the door, and damn my own stupidity for “cooperating” with the pigs and for opening the door to them. With my shit luck, though, they’d have just kicked the door down had I not, and Arizona would do something so extreme over a letter, too. Not even small towns like South Deerfield back east would react in such a way to something like this! And all for what? Cuz the fucking “victim” was black? As harsh as Arizona’s laws are, this never would’ve happened if she’d been white as well. I know it wouldn’t have. The question is, though, if the black bitch hadn’t had her piggy friend to use against me, would it still have gone as far as it has? Would things have been so trumped up and blown out of perspective then?

Just as suddenly as the days came when it was hard for me to deal with Teddy Bear’s leading me on and dumping me to the point that I was crying, it’s gotten easier again. Proof that no, God didn’t have anything to do with when it got easier the last time, cuz I didn’t pray for help this time around. I know better and I’ll never pray for a damn thing again. Not even for my life if I were held at gunpoint by some monster!

I did have a funny dream pertaining to Teddy Bear, though, that might make for a good book part. I was back in M Dorm, alone in 203. I squealed with delight when I saw her come through the door at the start of second shift. I noticed she didn’t have her clipboard in hand.

She opened the cell door and stepped inside, letting the door lock shut behind her. “Hey, babe,” she said. “I got it all taken care of.”

“Got what taken care of?” I asked her.

“Another DO’s covering for me so I can spend the night with you.” She kicked her shoes off, took off her work belt and placed it on the metal desk. Then she glanced at my bunk, walked over to it and sat down on it before stretching out on her back. “So this is what these things are like, huh?”

Still stunned and unsure of what to say, I finally said, “Teddy Bear, the DO can see us every time she does a walk.”

“She won’t bother us. She knows what’s going on and she can be trusted.”