Inmates screw things up.
Well, it is a new day. I am sitting on my bunk getting pissed off at the world.
The air conditioner was working fine. The room was just comfortable for a good night's sleep and bingo! Some asshole shuts off the compressor part of the system. Now one hour later and it is already at least five degrees warmer and still going up.
Damn the idiots! Every other prisoner in the NY system would give his or her right arm to have AC. We are the only ones and then some inmates complain about being too cold and off it goes. It just confirms my belief that it is the for themselves.
The lighting in our dorm is a grid of four lights by six lights. Each light contains two eight-foot long florescent bulbs. There were at least nine of the twenty-four fixtures that were not working, needing bulb replacement. Today they were fixed. Three of the fixtures were in the row of four that are directly over my bed. The difference is amazing. If we had fourteen working fixtures and now have twenty-four that is around a 65% increase in light output for the entire dorm.
It is like an oven in here. The place is getting warmer by the minute. Another hour or so and I might as well not bother getting under the covers. Being on the top bunk the blankets just end up lying on the floor by morning.
I am waiting for Beethoven's Midnight Piano Sonata. Think of Linus of Charlie Brown fame.
I got a letter from my dad today and he is really trying to cover some of the ground I mentioned en the recent visit, but I think he missed something. He says he will try to send two letters a week. I hope it works out. I am very worried about both Mom and him, although there is not much I can really do at this point.
That is still the hardest thing to handle. How helpless I really am. The one manifestation of this is the obsessive desire to respond instantly to any letters I get (mostly yours). At the same time if I relax and put off an immediate response it is real easy to let the letters grow mold before I finally write back, because after a few days I give up the thought that anything I have to say is of any importance. Look how easy it was to not send you anything typed last week. Yes sometimes it is just plain laziness.
I want to consider myself a writer. I need to be able to write without expecting direct, instant feedback.
I have been toying with trying to explain how there are two different types of things that I am good at. I can apparently write to the point of stirring up emotions in others.
I can program a computer with ease and make those machines dance. The writing takes a lot more effort to achieve the end product; computer programming provides instant feedback and quite honestly requires less "knowledge". Once you get down the syntax and commands, off you go. Writing requires a constant awareness of spelling, grammar, style etc.
Okay that's all for now I just hit the wall and it is now beddy bye time.