I am currently under home confinement and have to deal with the federal government in the form of my US Probation Officer.  He has been pretty understanding of my flexible work schedule and need to be in different place to accomplish the many odd jobs I now work to make ends meet.  I submit my work schedule weekly via email.  My door is always open for a random visit.  I submit to drug testing three times a month and have to call everyday to see if I am schedule to pee in a cup.  I go to weekly counseling with a court appointed counselor.  My ankle has a big box strapped to it that tells the government if I am home or not.  I AM IN THE SYSTEM in a major way.

This is the price of doing business in the world of medical cannabis.  Yes.  There is no change in American Policy for me.  I am a number.  A responsibility. A criminal. Recently my appointed officer has began to show a greater interest in me which is strange.  For the first six months of this journey I could barely get my PO to answer the questions I had about procedures.  I sent many emails that went unanswered and I just figured that I was not a priority and that there were bigger and more dangerous fish to fry.  I never took offense, even though I felt unimportant in the scheme of things.  My philosophy was that no news was good news and I left it at that.

I have asked about drug testing and when my "phases" were going to be adjusted, to reflect the time I have been involved in the program.  NO answer.  I have asked about how the "free time" system works, as I have to adjust it to help with my son's little league team (That is right.  I have to use my alloted free time to perform community service of teaching kids baseball.). NO answer.  I have asked about fulfilling my duty to give a DNA blood sample to the Feds as is required by my conditions of home confinement.  NO answer.  This has gone on for months.

Now there seems to be a renewed interest in me and I find it strange. My PO has tracked me down at work 2 of the last 3 weeks.  He has requested more detailed information about my workplaces.  He has written me emails at 3:42 in the morning.  Why would this man be thinking about ME at 3:42 in the morning?  But alas, this is my life these days.  No rest for the wicked I suppose.

I am a slave to the system.  I must beckon to the every call of the system.  I must conform to the game, even though it seems like the goal posts keep moving mid-game.  It is confusing and annoying to say the least.  

I always seem to have a responsibility to meet to make this work.  To stay with my family. To be "free" from prison, but in a virtual state of fear as if I were in prison.  It is difficult.  I constantly fear having missed something.  I have to always make sure that I am on point and handling my responsibilities.  I must call the line daily for drug testing. I must be at my weekly meeting with the counselor. I must submit a detailed schedule weekly and resubmit any changes.  I must give a DNA sample. I must register as a drug offender in my city.  I must never slip up and have a drink.  I must be perfect.

Needless to say my hair is graying from the stress.  It is a lot of pressure dealing with the Federal Government.  Especially when they keep changing the procedures in which I operate.  I desperately await a miracle that will end this nightmare and restore justice to the universe, but wish in one hand....I continue to press through.  One day at a time.  One hurdle after another and some would call me lucky because I am not in prison.  That is true in a sense, but it is still a difficult pill to swallow when you know that you are innocent.  Wish me luck as I continue to navigate my experiences with the feds in a murky and foggy environment.  I will have to write a book on that alone when it is all said and done.  I suppose it could be much worse, so I keep on keepin' on and try not to complain.  This too shall pass, but when?