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I’m back home, even though I’ve not yet recovered from my infection. My lawyer
argued to the judge that it was possible that the food I was given in the
prison was potentially poisoned, and my distaste for it was not simply the
result of another symptom of the fungus. This would be a reach, as I’m sure
you’re assuming, except that this facility has a suspiciously deep history
with poison. There have been other cases that were not ambiguous, and which
involved guards in more than one instance. That doesn’t prove that I was
indeed poisoned, because they couldn’t pinpoint anything in my body, but that
was enough to get me a compassionate release. I’m obviously not completely
free. I still can’t leave my apartment, and since I can’t be monitored around
the clock anymore, I can’t go back to jail this weekend for my normal two-day
stint. This is a complicated situation, because skipping a weekend comes with
an automatic incursion of an extra 64 hours. Here’s the math. I was originally
sentenced to 1000 hours. I’m scheduled to go inside at 18:00 every Friday, and
come out at 18:00 on Sunday. That’s 48 hours each time. Multiply that by 20,
and you get 960 hours. That means on the 21st weekend, I could have left at
10:00 on Sunday. But now I’m up to 1064 total. So it’s more than just one
additional weekend. After that, I still have an extra eight hours to take care
of during a 23rd weekend. And this will keep happening each time I have to
push it back, even if it’s not my fault. This is just how the law works. The
judge is not at liberty to make any sort of exception due to my illness.
That’s probably for the best, or people would be calling in sick when they’re
not, just like they do when they don’t want to go to work, or perhaps more
commonly, school. My time in house arrest doesn’t count towards my quota. My
time in the prison medical ward, while it was supposed to last for seven days,
only covered the original 48 hours that I owed. It wasn’t supposed to last
more than a week either way. It’s all a big trade-off, but I would still say
that I’m glad to be back here, even with this ankle monitor. I have more space
to move around, I have better internet, and I eat whatever I want. Plus, I’m
still making my own hours, which gives me extra time to sleep in my nice and
comfortable bed. In the prison, I found that I could only work during certain
times, or the connection was excruciatingly slow. That often meant getting up
in the middle of the night, and I’m not about that.
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