Miss McAleavy, my fate is in your hands…

10 Mar

I get off the phone to my mum, it’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow and I save my credit when I can call up the big guy then. My confiscation order paperwork has come through also. Prison orders state that any still open confiscation orders can inhibit the move to open conditions, I make sure these are read through, signed and stuck back in the mail box.

George points out that an officer standing on the landing, a Miss McAleavy is responsible for categorisation… my shadow’s rooted as I join the tail snaking around the landing to pester her. Cue instant line of disillusioned and unclassified workers begging to the same tune.

Nah my story is different…. 🙂 is it hell

“When will we be categorised?”

“When can we get out of here?”

She takes our names, our numbers and while I know this will amount to little, I feel good for airing my grievance.

Tomorrow like always is a new day and a day when the news could land. I look forward to each new day that dawns, its one closer to the end of this nasty bit of purgatory and maybe the morning that my taxi for the seaside pulls up.

Day 18

Taxi stood me up.

The month’s drawing to a close today and I will wake after today knowing that I am less than 7 months from getting out on tag, 5 1/2 months till I can get a home visit for the week.

I remember sitting down at Christmas this year, I’d not long struck a plea and hoped I could look forward to this being all over by Christmas 2012. I thought:

“Mint, this time next year I’ll be free and clear to get on with Project Me. Never again have I got to hear from the Police, the courts etc.”

It dragged on till June as the FSA wasted more of its corporate levies to see how much I’d swallow.

Do one, you got enough back-patting headlines out of me; go fix some real problems in the City.

So as it stood, I hung around in limbo for another 6 months before I could get the sentence started. Never been so eager for a punishment before. It doesn’t seem right almost, the prosecutor delaying ‘Protecting the Public’ from this monster.

Incidentally Ex-RBS Chief Fred Goodwin or “Sir Fred” to his enemies, is alleged and perhaps can be shown to have made some VERY misleading statements to shareholders. The statements made shortly before RBS needed a Mega Billion Bail-out of his bank by the Government. That same bail-out that has caused havoc to our pensions, tax bills, benefits and overall standard of living.

As I write this here convicted of ‘MIsleading Statements’, he avoids prison and has a moderate cut to his final salary package.

Nice to have friends in high places, they make an example of the small fry instead. I get 2 years for £300,000, what do you get once you get past £20 billion?

You get demoted to Mr.


We clean the landings at night, so we can get to the gym in the morning with no duties to be done yet. The screws don’t always like all the workers going off to the gym as we should be working; but they don’t seem to have grasped the notion:

A Stitch in Time saves Nine.

Darren begins the usual physical dismantling and I leave the gym questioning whether this type of exercise is really any good for me, when I feel this terrible. I’m pleased to have gone, as National Strikes, as well as troublesome inmates on the wing, see us locked down for a long while. Add to that, it’s canteen day and there really isn’t much prospect of moving about today.

I was due to get into my property box today, but this scheduling was made by a screw clearly not aware (or maybe he was) that today would be a no go. With one day to go till the World Heavyweight Title clash between David Haye and Wladimir Klitschko, I’m panicking that I may miss out listening to it. I ask everyday, everyday I’m told: “Tomorrow”. (It’s like being in Spain! Manana Manana) Every tomorrow, I’m left waiting about, before it gets too late to head down to the property department.

It gets frustrating, but it irks most when you understand, they don’t care.

The radio is a far more intellectual tool than Jeremy Kyle. I’m sulking…. I’ll cope, but right right now this is massive part of my life – ridiculous 🙂



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