I got up about an hour ago-- had a coffee, reenforced a seam on a pair of summer slacks and paid a bill. I washed my hair yesterday afternoon when I got home-- and this is what it looked like this morning-- because I only blew it dry. On the right-- after a little press and curl.

The car is still in the driveway, and I have not called the ACLU nor the myriad of other calls I plan to make in the coming days. That Anne Arundel County simply walked in and violated my rights still amazes me. I have too much proof this is corruption.

The integrity of my bag. I always said I could prove a lot with the contents of my bag. Who developed the software, other important documents, everything associated with my business, car emissions irregularities, etc. I never let the bag out of my sight. When DB Long put me in his police cruiser on Monday, June 18th 2012--- I mentality let go of the bag. I believe the hope was I would scream and scream. I did not. Not once during the entire 16 day ordeal.

Part of the reason why? The earpiece provided my sister, Judy came over to get the bag and Macbook-- and for the first 8 days she never let it out of her sight. For some reason this gave me peace of mind-- because too many times in the past-- I have noticed things missing and only my mother has been around. Also via the earpiece-- told the bag was placed into Federal custody after 8 days and when I arrived home yesterday-- moments before, the bag was placed here. My mother was not home. This seems far fetched I know-- but too many odd things have happened since I left Rockwell.

The earpiece provided that Judy should be commended for not voiding the integrity of the bag. I want to believe this-- but my thoughts in those early days of this experience-- "now I can go in to the Arundel Mills Casino and see what it looks like". The bag would have stopped me at the door unless I provided I was a blogger. I never tried to get in.

The pysch staff tried hard to get me to scream over the 16 or 17 days I was there. I never did. I think someone like that gives instructions to my mother. I often tell her-- to go find that Jewish psychiatrist and irritate her. Is my mother insured-- the whole thing throws a really bad light on my mother.

I am good about not arguing with individuals who are not part of the equation. I also do not argue with my mother. I stopped asking her questions long ago.. A brick wall. Anne Arundel co police-- an argument I will have. Idiots with guns that should not be allowed anywhere near me.

The only thing the staff at the hospital can say-- I was a model patient. My fight was not with them. Anne arundel co police and government owe me. FBI-- I am not kidding. My mood so stable at the hospital-- the only time I felt a since of sadness was Wednesday night. On Tuesday, I was told I would be discharged on Thursday, July 5th, 2012. I was happy but not overly so. Wednesday night-- while doing a little exercise [walking a long hallway] I felt a since of sadness that this leg of my journey was about to end-- and I still had no idea how to end all of this. I am never depressed. I can find too many things that interest me to feel sadness for an extended period of time. But Wednesday night-- I felt sadness and a bit of apprehension. Not because of further police harassment-- god I do not even drink-- but more because I hate the idiot/coward element in all of this. DB long that overweight idiot in the photo of the last post-- could not have walked in my shoes these last 17 years-- yet he can violate my rights and it seems I can do nothing about it... If it is the last thing I do-- that overweight idiot will pay [ with his job and/or a jail cell] for violating my rights.

I have a lot of things to do today. I am calm and set in my resolve. I am owed. And I am not owed idiots from Anne Arundel Co.

My bag? Even I am surprised I am not crying. Software, two computers, drives, disks, external hard drives, documents that provide proof. I have not gone through everything but for some reason-- the earpiece information that my sister and a Federal judge protected the bag-- has given me a little peace of mind. That said- I let go-- when I sat in the police car that Monday. I knew it was the only way I would survive and I did.

Someone at the hospital asked me what the first thing I was going to do when I returned home. I cannot remember what I said. What did I do? I cried.

I have a whole post on anti-psychotic medications. As I said I have never used any nor have I been diagnosed with the need to use them. Yesterday, I was given a prescription. Here it is-- note the no-refills. Is 3mg a lot? I can destroy this in a court of law.