|
Relaxing from Boredom
By D.P. O’Keefe
"Is this what you do with eternity?" —Andie MacDowell, Groundhog Day
Everyone in the Judeo-Christian societies of the world should take 3-5 years off just to get their heads together. A sort of precursor to retirement.
I chose crime as a means to that end, and received 5-6 years "temporary retirement" as a result. I don’t suggest that. The accommodations are a tad stark, the food is a one-chef’s-hat rating at best, and the other boarders have a lot of homemade tattoos and fight a lot.
I have three years left to go, and I’m in decent condition mentally, except for an occasional whine. But I’m trying to be as stoic as possible. Especially while trying to escape boredom.
One actually has to relax from boredom in here—if that makes any sense. One has to establish a routine and stick to it to get by.
There are other respites from boredom: excessive sleep, occasional exercise and the ever popular "self abuse." You can also lobotomize yourself with wrestling on one of the commissary’s $300 TV ensembles. (No lie—a 13" Chinese color TV that would cost $79 at Wal-Mart is $269 at our commissary, plus cables and extension cord, so all that mindless chatter about "free" cable in prison is a pure lie. And 75% of the guys in here don’t have that kind of money.)
As far as keeping oneself entertained, prison is not for the fragile-minded (me). There are a number of negative stimuli—stress, anxiety, and lack of intellectual stimuli. But hey, its prison, not Epcot Center.
The writing takes up a little time. When I first introduced Welcome to Hell, I was writing a column a week at one point. Now that I’ve covered a lot of prison life, I might move on.
I write letters, work out lightly to keep myself from looking like a beached Krispy Kreme donut and, on rare occasions, read. During baseball season, which is mercifully seven months long, I am glued to my overpriced television (a gift from my brother).
The last and most important thing in taking a break from boredom is contact from family members and my fiancée. My fiancée visits me as much as the prison allows and my brothers, who live out of state, accept my exorbitantly-priced collect calls.
D. P. O’Keefe is a humorist incarcerated in a Connecticut medium security correctional facility.
| 
