The Rat. Well, it is 7:49 AM and I am sitting at my desk. That would be logical, since that is where the typewriter is.

I am down here with only one other inmate, the "rat" as a matter of fact. He is trying hard to get a conversation going but not having much luck.

Damn, I am weak. The aforementioned rat just pumped me for some info on the kiln. Damn. It is hard for me to be a hard ass, but then I know that there are some areas/people in my life that would say there are places I am a real hard ass. Such is life. Now he will try to keep the channel open, but it will not be there.

Well that is how things are this morning.

They sent us all back to the unit at 10:00 AM since they were going to bring in the gas-powered tractor to cut the grass. They are having the training in the Rec yard, and the Rec cop was afraid of what the warden might say about the grass. They do not allow any inmates to handle gas, even the Briggs and Stratton training class is not able to ever use any gas, so they work on dry motors.

It turned into an entire afternoon project, so I spent the time in bed reading and sleeping. Okay, more sleep then reading.

Now I will be up for a while tonight, since I got the latest PC magazine, four James Bond books, and no work in the morning. Life is good.

Too bad I am no longer alone in the cell, but there is an upside. I think I mentioned he is Mexican and also just got his job changed to unit orderly, so now I have my cell cleaned top to bottom every day. It makes me want to take a shower before I go in the room!

I do shower every day, but a sweep here and there and a rag mopping of the floor once a week was good enough for me.
  ¶ 8:32 AM