Last weekend my Dad called, as usual, and somehow we got on the topic of PC and prison. I was joking around, but I’m not sure Dad was. Here is what our conversation included.
“Jennifer, prisoners have better living conditions than you do.”
“I have freedom.”
“Yes, but prisoners have running water and hot meals with meat. And you don’t have freedom. You can’t even go out at night. You pee in a bucket! Prisoners have real toilets.”
“Dad, I pee in a bucket at night because the latrine is sketchy, and there are scary things in dark. And it’s easy.”
“See, prisoners have better living conditions.”
“Dad, do you want me to be in prison? Because I could make it happen.”
It was mostly for fun, but my Dad does worry about my living conditions a lot more than I do. I should never have told him about the pee bucket.
So, by the end of our call, we decided PC is like prison because:
1. I have bars on my doors and windows.
2. I have a curfew at dark.
3. I will serve a two-year sentence.
I’m sure there are more reasons, but I can’t remember. At least I have freedom, kind of. PC has soooo many policies….and culture binds my actions a bit. Oh well, I still love the Peace Corps!