Now that the room is full of long-timers (they've both got two or three months to serve), I get the feeling that these two guys are the ones that will end up watching me go home. Chris is a little bit older, and was telling us stories last night of the pets that had on his house (a rarity in Southern California: he had acreage). I like the personalities of my two new bunkies. One is a young former dealer who's be stiffened straight and is wise beyond his years, and the other is a high flying marketing type who decided to tussle with the wrong judge and DA. Both have very alpha characteristics about them, and at the same time, neither need to be the center of the room. Personally, this will give me the opportunity to just be quiet and read for the remainder of my sentence.

I'm ready to go home. I'll admit it. I see the light and the end of this tunnel, and it's fucking glorious. If my sentence were of the short variety, I wouldn't have had the appreciation I have now of basic things like setting your own schedule and enjoying time alone. I'm a little bit embittered, but not the point where I feel I have any real reason to gripe. I'm embittered at my former self, really, at the opportunities I squandered, and at the idea that if I had taken a $9,000 cab ride home that night, I'd come out ahead, far ahead. But I don't want to be guided by such thoughts, nor do I want to think in such terms. In twenty four mere rotations around the Earth's axis, my life will change immensely, and I can't wait.