I called my probation officer when I woke up this morning (obviously I could barely sleep, knowing that I would be released back into the wild of Los Angeles in the morning!).  He deactivated the GPS on my ankle bracelet and told me that I could take it off with a screwdriver before he arrived to collect it, along with my final reporting paperwork.

I couldn’t resist the urge to film the occasion!  RIP, you little bastard.

Time served.

120 Hours

I have five days of house arrest left to go.  My ankle and I are scheduled to be released from captivity on Wednesday.  It won’t come a day too soon.  And not a day too late, either… hopefully.

I’d like to think I can hold on until then without sawing my foot off at the ankle and crawling to the border–  a bottle of cheap tequila in one hand and a bloody Swiss Army knife in my teeth, muttering about freedom as I drag my mangled body into Tijuana moments before I am seized by members of the Cartel.  Yes, I believe it’s best to wait.

I can honestly say, after everything, that I remain optimistic about life after house arrest.  This experience hasn’t ruined me.  I am also happy to report that it hasn’t made me fat OR a slave to chronic alcoholism either, though both scenarios seemed inescapable at the beginning of the year.  It appears that I’ve beaten the odds.  Thank God.  It will be one thing to come out of this year a felon, but the idea of re-entering the Free World as an obese, raging alcoholic felon would have really added insult to injury. One horrible turn of events at a time please, life.

I’ve been on the home confinement program for 360 days.  I’d be lying if I said that every one of those days was easy.  I want to thank everyone who has been there for me along the way, many of you who have kept up with me here, on my blog.  I could never put a price on what your support has meant to me.  But, if I had to put a price on what your support has meant to me, I’d say it’s somewhere in the pocket of five hundred dollars.  Maybe more.

I have managed to avoid leaning on destructive habits for passing the time this year.  Instead of allowing myself to sink into depravity (Though, how bad could it have really been?), I started this blog and let writing about my experience be my escape from it.  In the end, it truly has been my escape.  To those of you who have read and responded with support, I am sincerely grateful.

6 days to go.