Day 21: I feel like a kid in a candy store

OH---GAG! SLAP ME! TATTOO 'POLLYANNA' ON MY FOREHEAD. Dress me in a white twirly pinafore.

I just wrote that title to this entry--"I feel like a kid in a candy store," and can't believe there is still a smidge of "the glass is half full" left in me. This is prison for goodness sakes and comparing it to a candy store simply verifies blossoming psychosis. Until I scribbled that down I thought I had lost any optimism left in me. THIS IS PRISON AND IT SUCKS! (Or as a previous occupant of my room had scribbled on the wall "THIS SHIT SUCK.") Yeah, I could change the title, but maybe I need to leave it there, as another example that my brain is still able to process positive feelings, and that I CAN GET THROUGH THIS. Yeah, right.

Candy stores are colorful, exciting, intoxicating and cheerful. Prison is dreadful, scary, shameful and intimidating. And it sucks.

But we had commissary yesterday, and I did buy myself candy and soda and junk food and treated myself to things I haven't had in weeks. My wonderful husband has put a decent amount of money in my prison "fund account" and I was able to purchase M&M's, Doritos, Root Beer and Snicker's Bars. Also, deodorant (what? they actually allow you to feel like a human being in here?) shampoo, conditioner, writing paper and two pens! I also broke my rule about never sending mail from prison to my kids. I bought five "Write Outs," the name for envelopes with stamps printed on them.

Oh, my roommate was "shipped" to her final destination prison today. Remember I told you she said she was a thief? Well, I was at recreation when shipment left today. I got back to my room and Casey was gone. And so was all my candy.