It’s Sunday night. It’s cloudy outside of my cell window. Seems it has been like this for the past few days. Hope it rains ’till I’m out. I’m currently locked in my cell…have been since around 10pm last night. A fight broke out on my unit…a few people got lugged to the hole. Another day in the life. I was supposed to call my boy Alessandro earlier at 5PM…that obviously didn’t happen. He’ll understand. Not the first time I’ve been on “lockdown”…surely not the last. Besides, I was never on time for anything when I was free…might as well keep up the trend…lol.
Yes, I’m still in Middleton. Hopefully, I get picked up and transferred to a Federal Prison this week. I’ve been saying that now since May 11th. Story of my life…hurry up and wait. I’m on the Feds’ time now…
Sundays usually suck in here (except during football season). “Emotional Sundays”…that’s what we call them here in Middleton. Not everyone does, obviously, only the few guys I actually hang out with. It’s a joke…like you know how club promoters put a name on their nights…like “Wild Wednesdays”, “Thirsty Thursdays” or “Fantastic Fridays”? Well…where I’m at…it’s “Emotional Sundays”.
Sundays start out all emotional …even in the early AM. A few of my favorite radio stations such as 101.7, 92.9 and 104.1 play all acoustic versions of songs from 9-1. I love acoustic by the way. That pretty much sets the tone for the day. Sundays are my day of reflection…the day I do most of my thinking. Sundays were always great when I was free. Sometimes I would get breakfast or brunch with the fellas in the morning or early afternoon and talk about the madness of the night before (or whatever we could remember from it…lol)…or I’d have Sunday dinner at my mom’s house…or at Mimi’s house (when she was still alive)…or I would spend the day with whomever I was dating at the time. Ahhhh…I miss the good ol’ days when I was free. This is my punishment. I flooded the city with pills. I get VIP access to “Emotional Sundays” at Middleton.
There’s no mail on Sundays. I don’t work out on Sundays. Even TV sucks on Sundays. There’s no cable TV…just the basic channels. Nighttime TV is flooded with shows like Extreme Makeover Home Edition and Undercover Boss…more reasons we call it “Emotional Sundays”. Not gonna lie, a few episodes of Undercover Boss almost made me choke up. There’s no room for tears in jail…at least not in population anyway. Although, I have seen guys bawling on the phone, or when they watch their families or loved ones walk away after a visit. That’s gotta be tough, especially if you have kids. Thank God I don’t have any children…I’d probably be a stress box. Someday I hope to have a little Matty running around. Just what the world needs…another me…lol.
If I wasn’t stuck inside this 8×10 cell today with my cellie (roommate), I’d probably be halfway through my daily routine. I basically eat and do the exact same things every fucking day here. Think Groundhog Day…that’s my life right now.
Before I describe a typical day in the life here, let me describe my current living situation. Picture an 8×10 room…white walls (beige where the paint is chipped), beige tiled floor (some tiles don’t match), and bunk beds on the left side. I have the bottom bunk. The mattresses here suck…although mine is on steroids (lol) because I have two stacked with a whole bunch of blankets, enclosed in crisp white sheets. On the back wall is my lonely window with bars over it. It overlooks a field which lies past the twenty foot barbed wire fence that surrounds this jail. Past the field is a building or factory of some sort. Along the right side of my cell is a white desk…well…it probably used to be white…it’s more eggshell now…with a pullout metal chair…all comfort. About a foot away from that is a stainless steel sink/toilet combo…which I might add is the loudest toilet I’ve ever heard when flushed. Above the sink is an 8″ vanity mirror…even though there is no vanity in here…lol. My walls are pretty much bare, except for the Red Sox schedule we have hung up. I used to have an obscenely large collage with pictures of friends and family that took up the whole right side wall over my desk…but I recently took them down and sent them home…along with all my letters and legal paperwork…because I’m awaiting my transfer. I’ve amassed a large collection of letters and pictures…which I will keep forever. I still have a few pics that are fastened to the underneath of the top bunk, so when I wake up, they’re the first thing I see. Under my bed are Rubbermaid containers filled with all items I’ve purchased in commissary (food, toiletries…all that good stuff). As I look over on my desk, I see a hotpot, a few plastic cups and a half-full cup of coffee (still optimistic). On the two shelves is a whole bunch of stuff: jar of peanut butter, toothpaste, bag of coffee, box of Sweet n’ Low, creamer and hair gel (no clue who owns it). Believe it or not, some inmates actually still do their hair…lol. Not me, I stay with a fade. There’s also a plethora of other items I don’t feel like listing at the moment…but you get the picture.
My cell door is blue…also seems as if it’s been many colors over the years. There’s a glass window on the door and a little trap door big enough to slide a food tray through on days/nights like this when we’re locked in. I still don’t know why they insist on giving me my tray. I don’t touch the food here…it’s that bad. I give my trays to people here with no money so they don’t go hungry. My cellie is currently snoring as I write this (I sleep with ear plugs). He’s a good dude…a solid guy…one of the few. When we’re locked in, he sleeps a lot. I like to read or write.
Ahhhh yes…back to a typical day here. Sorry, I got off topic…I tend to do that sometimes. My day usually starts around 10ish…or whenever I feel like getting out of bed. Lately it’s been 10AM. The very first thing I see when I open my eyes are the small assortment of pictures I mentioned earlier…of various friends…right above my head. There’s also a post-it note that reads: “Just think of how much you’ve lived Mattie. Some people never do anything. ♥-S”. Pretty dope to read that every morning, considering that the first thing I say every day is, “Really…?! So…I’m still here?”
When I get out of bed, I fill my hotpot with water, plug it in and proceed to make coffee. If my cellie gets up before me, he’ll do it. I take mine extra, extra by the way…lol. I then eat my daily oatmeal with a scoop of peanut butter. I drink (2) 8 oz. of fat-free milk. It’s the same breakfast every day. They serve a variety of “wannabe” breakfasts here…but I don’t even attempt to eat fake-ass pancakes or imitation eggs. I still wonder…how do you even imitate eggs? Along with my nutritious breakfast, I put on my headphones and listen to 98.5…The Sports Hub…to catch up on all the sports I may have missed from the day before. It’s all I have…no ESPN…no cable remember? I’ll take what I can get. After breakfast, I kick my cellie out of the cell so I can wash up and handle my business. Don’t get me wrong…he doesn’t always leave…lol. When you live in such tight quarters with someone, it’s not unlikely that he or I will just drop trou mid-conversation…like it’s nothing. That’s jail life for ya. You can’t be bashful in the Big House. For your reading pleasure, and considering it’s what I normally do, I usually kick him out…or vice versa. TMI? Probably, but I have to give you the feel…the ambiance of this shit hole…no pun intended!
By the time I’m done eating, it’s usually 11ish. I do one of two things…I either do yoga for an hour…or I run/walk laps around the unit for an hour…both while listening to my headphones. Yes…I do yoga in jail. I wish I got into it before. A lot of women I’ve dated used to be into it and a few of my boys as well…but I was always hesitant. It’s really great for the mind and it keeps me lean. After my daily cardio, I hit the showers. No…it’s not group showers…and no I haven’t dropped the soap…lol. OK…I lied…I’ve dropped it…but who hasn’t…shit’s slippery as hell! By the way, gotta wear flip flops in the shower…god only knows what’s on those floors. I cannot wait to take a real shower…or even a bath for that matter. The little things I took for granted.
Once I’m done with that, the rest of the afternoon is usually spent reading, while listening to music. Other inmates usually play cards, dominoes, or watch TV at this time–I read. I do a lot of reading here…lots of writing too. I used to play cards (Hold ‘Em)…but that got old quick. I’ve read some pretty amazing books here. A few of my recent favs include: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Fools Die, The Queen of the South and most recently (yesterday), Water for Elephants. Not gonna lie, that book is pretty sad. It made me think of my Grandpa and how much I fear getting old. Read it!
I eat every 3 hours here. I usually make tuna and brown rice, chicken and brown rice, brown rice and re-fried beans, and my oatmeal. Same things every day…slow torture…picture that. I’m lucky enough…or should I say fortunate enough…not to have to eat the food they serve here…but after 15 months…it gets old quick! On Saturdays, I cook with a few of the guys here. I’ll explain a good jail meal in another blog.
I work out everyday, except Sunday of course. Well…twice a day if you include my AM yoga/cardio. Lately, I do mostly calisthenics…push-ups, pull-ups, dips, etc. I used to workout in the gym here, but it’s all machines, and since I’ve been here so long, I had to switch it up.
The rest of my day consists of listening to music. I actually have my headphones in while I’m writing this. Yes…I’m still locked in…in case you were wondering. Music is my medicine. I make phone calls after 6:30PM…right after I get my mail. I enjoy talking on the phone…a lot!! I like getting updates from family and friends. It’s bittersweet…you know? Like, “Oh yeah…you’re going where? Oh…you saw who? Oh…must be nice.” I say that a lot…”must be nice.”
The remainder of my night usually consists of me writing letters or this blog, reading or watching TV. I always listen to the Sox games. In fact, they won today, 4-2, against the Pirates. I don’t get how they can sweep the Yankees…then lose to shit bum teams like the Pirates or San Diego? It doesn’t make sense…then again not much does in my life at the moment. Like, “why the fuck am I still locked in?” There was a fight. It happens all the time. Nothing much to see here.
As I’m writing this, my cellie leans over the bed, looks down at me and says, “Matty, I hate my life.” LOL…we say that a lot. Kinda like FML. Who am I to complain though? I sold drugs. I deserve this. I’ll tell you one thing on this emotional Sunday, it’s definitely made me realize how great I really had it in the real world.
I realize my days seem boring and monotonous. That’s because they are. There’s nothing glamorous about jail. Sure, I’ve met some cool guys here…but this is NOT a cool place to be. My days are all the same…over and over…it would drive most people nuts. Sure, there’s visit days, court trips and lawyer visits. There’s gang wars, stabbings and fights…but even those start to seem regular when you’ve been locked up for so long. What excites me now is knowing that any day now I’ll be moved to the next spot…out of this county bullshit…and on to the Feds. Just doing my time…and keeping it moving. Now if only those Feds would only come and get me…or better yet…how about they start by letting me out of this cell…must be nice…