5:00 AM - Was awakened by my cell-mate's moaning: she was masturbating with my imported brass candle holder. How tasteless! I haven't masturbated in... well decades! Don't they allow cats in here!? Anyway, I negotiated a trade; my precious candle holder for a few feet of her graying pony tail.
5:30 - Deal completed. I threw in a vanilla-scented candle and she promised to shampoo before cutting.
6:00 - I made my bed; did a "nurse tuck", but was unable to measure neck level fold-down since they wouldn't let me have a ruler in my cell. Settled on 'four-fingers' width and hope that's close enough.
6:15 - Began knitting cell-mate's hair into a taffeta-like coaster. (She puts her soft drink cans on our small wooden "writing desk" and they leave rings!)
6:30 - I perform experiment trying to turn my urine into effective glass cleaner.
6:45 - ...I vant to be alone...
7:00 - Breakfast in the dining hall; silverware was plastic! Centerpiece was a galvanized bucket with no decorations whatsoever! Napkins? Get this: the sleeve of my jumpsuit!!! Fuck that; it's unconstitutional!
Eggs were overdone and apparently NOT from free-range chickens. (I could taste the fear and lack of freedom in them. How awful!) Bacon contained WAY too much grease, but I managed to sneak a few thimblefuls back to my cell; later, I'll try to convert the grease into a decent furniture polish.) I also swiped some aluminum foil, which I'll beat thin, try to color using shoe polish and lipstick, and then install in our cell window to simulate stained glass. It could work.
7:30 - Half-hour in exercise yard; most fellow inmates are lifting weights, smoking cigarettes, or discussing American Idol. I do some yoga, meditate in half-lotus, and imagine myself floating over the prison wall in a yacht. Overheard rowdy biker women planning a jail break; apparently, they'll stuff Tampons into the toilets, and when the water system overflows, they'll use that as a diversion and climb out through the roof.
8:00 - I'm allowed my daily phone call; spoke briefly to my stockbroker; told him to dump my holdings in Prison Management, Inc. due to inside information regarding upcoming plumbing disaster and ensuing public relations problems. Instructed him to buy big into Roto-Rooter. He agreed to destroy any emails relative to trade. (Hope he's not a lying, sniveling bastard turn-coat like that last little prick! Note to self: can pipe bombs be aesthetically pleasing? Do they have to be that hideous grey metal, or are other colors of pipe available? Google during library pass.)