It’s a rainy day in my corner of the world. I’m sitting on my wood floor with bare feet, recovering from a workout. The windows in my apartment are open and I can hear drizzle and sirens out on Crenshaw.
I’m glad it’s raining. It reminds me of living in Washington. It also makes being locked inside all day feel more normal.
I have my weekly earned leave tonight. Hooray! Three glorious hours of freedom to be out of my apartment, where I could almost forget that I’m on house arrest at all if it weren’t for the massive hunk of plastic collared at my ankle.
I always overdress to leave the house now. Doesn’t matter where I’m going. I gussy up like a prize pig headed for the county fair. I’m not saying I spend hours getting ready, but I do find myself making more of an effort than I have in the past. I see it as an opportunity to refresh. If I have a chance to roam around in the Free World, I simply don’t feel inclined to do so in the same sloppy attire that I so often wear at home. On that note, I sometimes even wear heels at home if I’m having company. Why not? I’m a girl who’s practically lived in heels and a dress every day of my life since 8th grade, and I’m not going to let a pesky thing like house arrest change that.
Some elements of dressing up are more of a challenge now. It’s incredible the things that can be taken for granted. For example: Wearing boots. With exception to folded-down Uggs, I have only one pair of boots that I can manage to squeeze into with the ankle bracelet on (and that baby’s not going anywhere for a long time still). This pair of boots is very high, hitting just above the knee, and the material is a thin cloth. It takes some doing, but I’m able to pull it through under the bracelet.
I remember the first time I realized that boots would be a challenge this year. I was at the home monitoring probation office in downtown LA, at my first meeting with my home monitoring officer. I had parked about five blocks away. I carelessly wore fitted boots, assuming that there would be some way to wear the bracelet with a boot on. Within minutes of getting clamped, I discovered that I had been very wrong about that. I was forced to limp back to my car with only a sock on my left foot, a new ankle bracelet above it, and my boot and a charging cord in a bag at my hip. It’s the one time that I feel like I’ve ever “out-stranged” the foot traffic in downtown LA.
287 days to go.