There were hints of a contingency exercise today and that got me really excited. I wanted to watch all the drama that would be staged, of two ‘convicts’ attempting our very own Prisonbreak. But it was all for nothing, because it was eventually called off.
My second last morning was spent compiling the terrible 5-page report, re-checking through the statistics and preparing top-notch presentation slides for big bosses that I have not met. Thank God for cheap peanut butter sandwiches and thick, foaming coffee.
My afternoon was well-spent watching Drumline, an excellent show and educational resource, I’m sure. Then, I lazed around reading and doing my own stuff till I was chased to go home. I wanted to linger, seeing that it was my second last day but oh well. It’s kind of sad, cause I feel like I’ve just become comfortable enough with the people and it’s time to leave.
I just got photos of our cell’s newest addition, Baby Theresa. I remember getting the sms during my lunch break and feeling so excited, although in my head I was thinking about what a heavy baby she is. And then after lunch, my colleague randomly showed me her stretch marks post-pregnancy, increasing the see-my-stretch-marks count to 2 in just under a week. I freaked out, I maintain at least for now, as much as I love children – adoption is the way to go. The mothertalk all around me is kind of disturbing. I fear the day when I rave about Huggies and their free gifts.
I met this scholar intern who I met on the first day and I’m only calling him that because I forgot his name and ended up realising that we stay really nearby. We were both on 29, then he spotted me at the 72 stop and was surprised. He spent the entire bus journey enlightening me on several functions and practices of the prison that I never knew about e.g. how to differentiate the uniforms of staff and NSmen. I ended up asking him about joining them eventually and goodness, he must be just about the most well-informed person around. But all things considered, this is already his 3rd internship there. Work has taught me how to be a better small talker, or at least to make a conscious effort to ask the right questions. Most days I know what to say, I just don’t want to bother to keep up the appearance that I’m sociable, when I’m not. I feel extremely bad that I never came clean about forgetting his name.
I’m protective over the people who are close to my heart. Sometimes I wonder how far I’ll go, if enraged. I’ve seen, heard and carried others’ stories so much so I don’t trust men, especially when it seems that all they want to do is propagate their seed. Insensitive idiots.
One of those random MSN conversations that made me think. Made me realise that birds of a feather do flock together.
F:esther, i feel miserable ):
E:why?
F:i don’t know.
E:Maybe you’re just too comfortable with that feeling of being miserable. it’s an easier feeling. you can’t get any lower than that.
F: haha, you’re such an awful friend. what hurtful honesty.
E: i don’t know. maybe that’s just real for me too
F: i think i’m paranoid
E: Please do not tell me you’re feeling miserable because nothing’s going wrong and you’re just expecting something to go wrong
F: i keep thinking something’s going to happen
Wish you were home. Be strong, be well and be sure of your heart. I’ll always, we’ll always be here.
