It’s Friday & hot with plenty of humidity to go around too. I’ve got some mental issues going on at the moment, that idiot Dr. Shubert called me down yesterday to tell me that he was shutting off my meds. My six – tramadol a day pain – pills I’d been on for awhile. He suggested that I under go a series of three – shots, 1 a week for 3 – weeks, as a nerve – blocker for knee – pain in my right knee. He’ll probably do something to seriously fuck me up. Paralyzed for life or something else… Anyway it’s supposed to kill my pain, and those synthetic tramadols – crushed are ruining my esophagus, so I told him I’d do it. I’ll let you know how it turns out. If I’m able to still write…

Sitting here I have to towel off my forearms every 3 or 4 – minutes to keep this page from really getting soaked. I can’t believe how nasty it is in here today. 103 degrees out on the fire – escape & humid as hell.

Yesterday the fat bitch in charge made me a level – 3. Instantly I was forced to do another job, just for that one day though. I’m in charge of folding all of the laundry, about 12 – loads a days, supposedly ironing all of the striped shirts & blue pants, I’m now the C.L.  Journalism assistant, & then I have a bunch of little things to do every morning too. It’s annoying as hell, and everything keeps changing, so as soon as it starts to make sense, it doesn’t anymore. It’s very hard for me to get anything of my own done, unless I do them at night, when I really need to be sleeping.

They’ve moved me into a room with a real piece of shit crackhead. A bag of java used to last me a week, now I open a bag + 2 – days later it’s empty. He never ask for, buys, or borrows any, but always has some in his locker. While I went downstairs to the commissary today about a third of a bag disappeared. If he’d have asked I would have let him have some. So being in this unit I had to tell the guard that he needs to move to another hole. He’s in serious danger in this one, they’ll move him. These cells are the same as the security building, but 2 – inmates to a cell. We’re locked in from 10:00 pm. To 5:30 am. 5 – days a week, weekends are 11:30, holidays 1:30, too tired to ever even care though.

I guess they’ve been working on the security building longer than I’d thought. Today I mentioned it & was told it’s all done already. We saw a huge air conditioning unit go in on a tractor trailer this am. 2 – days ago the temp on the floor in a – pod was 105 degrees + the hobo’s were screaming bloody murder. So they got a new unit. I guess last month the women center got one, expensive, they’re really huge.

I keep seeing my friend Vinny, Fred Huntley, Matt Moscillo, and they holler to me across the courtyard or whatever, but all I can do is wave. Can’t say a word to them. These ass holes are really getting testy about that too. Shit – bags. Maybe if I get motivated enough I’ll write Fred and let you relay it if you’re willing to. The one letter I sent him said a lot but there are some other things I really wanted to mention. Like his health, which he’d told me was getting worse. He’d said that he didn’t think he would make it back to the streets alive. Says he has no will power. I know he does.

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