18 Mar 04
One of the unsettling things about cellular living is that the jail can randomly uproot you and transplant you to a new environment at any time. During my two-year stay, I've been "rolled-up" (moved) numerous times. A new cell equals a new garrison of cockroaches to battle, and I have learned to travel armed with enough AmerFresh toothpaste to block cockroach entry points effectively.
On Tuesday, our pod was moved to a different floor and I used my entire stock of AmerFresh to seal the cracks in the walls. The cell was quickly and expertly fortified against the enemy. That night, I admired the bug-free environment, relished the room's minty-fresh aroma and slept soundly. Little did I know the jail was about to sabotage my hard work.
On Wednesday, I was moved back to my original floor, into one of the most infested pods in the building. Completely unarmed with AmerFresh, I watched helplessly as the cockroaches sized me up from the myriad cracks in the walls. I knew as soon as the lights went off I was doomed. My cellmate, Mark, and I didn’t get much sleep. We stayed awake watching the legions of cockroaches conquer the room. Slowly gathering into larger numbers around us, they swarmed the floor. The walls. The ceiling. Our commissary bags. And finally, our bunks.
After Wednesday's defeat, I obtained a 170-gram tube of Mild Magic Fragrant Cream Shave Razorless Beard Remover, and I spent two hours filling in the cracks. The enemy emerge like clockwork when the lights go out, so I shall update tonight’s skirmish in next week’s blog.
My new cellmate, Mark, is mellow. The swamp cooler is not working properly and my favourite Radio show Coast 2 Coast hardly tunes in.