Prison food is notorious for being inedible. One of the great scams perpetrated on the public are prison menus. They read like an a la cart offering of pleasantries: cheeseburger with tater tots; spaghetti with garlic bread and salad; breakfast burritos, juice and milk; turkey patty with ketchup, green beans, and fries. In actuality, the food purchased is of the lowest quality, least inexpensive, sourced
Hearts beating, minds racing, excitement, sadness, anticipation, anxiety. Thoughts of What if I don’t make it out there? What if I fail? What if I relapse? All these crazy feelings and thoughts. With every step I took, all the way to the vault. My chest was getting tighter. I didn’t want to leave her. I didn’t want to leave everything I’ve known since (1/12/17). But is was MY TURN to go finally. My time for freedom.
The wait for my county to arrive to pick me up was excruciating. I was nervous, my stomach hurt. Then the walk to the van came. I was taking in everything (every little detail, mental photographs). The one person I needed to see but couldn’t. It’s not her turn yet. But it’s okay. I know she loves me. This is just as hard for me as it is for her.
I’m sitting in the sheriff’s van watching out the windows. My stomach is in knots. I’m nervous, excited, emotional. I can taste freedom from within these handcuffs and shackles. The whole ride I am car sick. Keeping my head between my legs. Feeling like I’m going to die.
Once I arrived to my county jail I was feeling fine. I spent 8 hours in booking. That was boring. You can only count the bricks on the wall so many times. I sat in a hard chair the whole time, through a storm, through my own sleepiness. I kept asking the guard “How much longer?” I kept getting the same response: Soon. Finally, after 8PM, they took me to A block.