It's Been a While

Four months and 22 days to be exact (not exactly). I hate it when people say about exactly, or 5am in the morning. About implies an estimate, and 5am will always be in the morning. So please stop it.

Anyhow, its been exactly almost nearly five months since my release from prison and as I was painting my grandma's basement today I was trying to think of things that I hadn't written about. It's tough to come up with much as I was writing as it was happening and I literally had a lot of time on my hands to write. I've covered the food, the people including staff and residents, the daily grind, treatment, the counts after counts after counts, bathroom habits, showering, pooping, and sitting, a lot of sitting. So what could I possibly write about?

How about this: Sometimes I miss prison. 97% of the time I do not. But occasionally I do miss having the time to read a whole book in under two days, to call into work and not give a fuck because your paycheck will only be short $2, to play board games all day long on weekends, and very oddly, I miss Folgers Crystals. I could buy them out here and for much cheaper but it just wouldn't be the same. There was no responsibility or accountability in prison and for so many years, that's how I lived my life. And, well...... It was easy.

Things are starting to pile up. I have so many obligations that all of my free time is booked weeks out. Bills are starting to be something I have to be conscious of and I might even have to use that ledger thing in the back of my checkbook. I can't just turn my back on things out here and hope they'll go away. I can't go in my cell and lock everybody out and hide in a book, not even for a few hours.

Listen, I know what I'm saying, and I understand what it implies, but rest assured that these are all things I can handle and I'm well equipped to do just that. I don't want to be incarcerated any more than I have been in my lifetime. But maybe I do wish I could go spend the weekend in Moose Lake playing cribbage with the buddies, making fun of the child molesters and animal fuckers, and then come back out here and start up at work as usual on Monday. Meh, not gonna happen.

So, what do I do to get rid of that little nagging 3% in my head? Well, right now, I'm sitting at the Uptown House waiting for my sponsor so we can start reading the big book. Today, I start step one: "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol- that our lives had become unmanageable." That's what it says on the board, but actually doing the step will be different. And it may be different for everybody and with every sponsor. But in a few minutes, my life will take that all important turn for the better, and I begin the real, honest, hard work that is necessary for me to achieve sobriety for the rest of my life, one day at a time, blah blah blah.

It's all very repetitive isn't it? But so was my drinking and drugging. I certainly established a routine. Wake up, get fucked up, repeat with no abandon. I did that for years. YEARS! Ugh. And what's odd is how often I look back at it and, even if ever so briefly, I think maybe there's a chance I could still drink and lead a normal life. Yikes.

Here's something I never got in prison, a parking ticket. I've been parking in the same spot for about a month and suddenly it's illegal? How could I have possibly missed a sign that said I couldn't park where I have been? I don't know, but I did. It was right above the other sign that implied I was okay parking there until almost exactly 9am in the morning. The second parking offense roughly states that I was parked more than 12 inches from the curb. Fuck me! Does anybody really even think of that rule after their road test? Surely this "parking enforcement" officer hates my car and all it represents. Well, at least I have the ability to park a vehicle, however far away from the curb, instead of having to walk everywhere. Right? And that ability I did not have in prison.

Until next time...