I have had some dreams about family lately that I just decided I did not want to write about. My kids still are so young when I dream about them even after I stare at pictures of them as they are now before I try to sleep. I sporadically break down and cry but I am not sure what triggers it. My pretend tough runs out of gas too quick for me to fill a journal without disclosing my emotional truth. I cannot say I feel any better to cry either. So I don't really know what to make of it.

​Prison continues to make no sense to me. I think it is like having a babysitter care for your kids who keeps them in the bathroom and comes by the window every thirty minutes to lick the glass. And then expecting the kids to grow into well adjusted self sufficient adults? Oh, don't forget the sporadic humiliation of having to get strip searched or having your mail taken for anything that may arouse heterosexual desires? Damn, I wish I could sleep more. The days are so long. I wish the phone system was more reliable. The quality of calls is often so poor that I feel it is more like stealing/theft. It is such an inconvenience to dispute lost time for poor call quality that people tend to avoid the complaint but they have no incentive to fix the issues. I wonder how private institutions are run? I am curious if it is better or worse.

I have a phone conference with my attorney at 3:00pm. I talk to her about the case I feel has legal grit for my post conviction motion. We finish the call about 4:25pm and when I exit the room there is a group of guards and the unit manager standing around the sergeants "control" cage. When I grab my dinner tray, one of the guys in the kitchen (between the small conference room and the sergeants cage) says that guards listen in on the attorney conference calls and that inmates are supposed to cover something in the room for attorney calls to be private. He says that is why they all congregated at the cage. He then says to the other kitchen worker that he could hear my conversation while the guards were listening to it. So, the gossip mongering guards eavesdropped my phone call? This place is just as crooked as jail. For the security of the institution or the distraction from their own boredom?