Tsk Tsk

The following is a summary of my “rock bottom.” I make a point not to make excuses for the choices I made because they were just that, my choices. I will tell you all like it was and is. I am not proud of what I did, but part of accepting consequences for mistakes you make is knowing that people will never think the same of you. What happened last year will follow me the rest of my life, and I won’t try to hide it, because it made me who I am today.


In November of 2007 I was hired at Macy’s of Onalaska. I only worked there for 3 months, but I stole quite a bit of money from the registers to which I was posted during that time. In April I was charged with Business Theft - Class A misdemeanor, which is one step down from a felony. Had I been charged with a felony it would have meant no financial aid, no voting, and likely no more employment. I was sentenced to a year of probation, 100 hours of community service, to pay restitution (compensation), and to attend a women’s group about criminal thinking. I managed to get a job at a bar in my home town, but apparently, had not learned my lesson. I stole money from the register for about two months, and was confronted by my boss when he noticed that things were not adding up. He made me a deal – I would continue to work for him and his wife under strict supervision, and would have a portion of my paycheck docked every week until he was compensated. I was very grateful for the chance to make things right, and was a model employee from that point on. I made the best Bloody Marys in town, too, which didn’t hurt any. In January of 2009 I got the best news I have ever and likely will ever receive- I was pregnant. Thrilled, I told everybody, including my boss. He was not quite so happy for me. He knew that that meant maternity leave at one point, which meant a break in compensation and, technically, a breach in our little contract. Consequently, I was greeted the next day at work by a county sheriff.


I was arrested on January 23rd and taken to the La Crosse County jail, where I was held without bail for revocation of probation. Someone is revoked when they fail to comply with the terms of their probation. I stole while on probation for stealing, so I was in no uncertain terms, revoked. Besides my revocation, I was charged with 3 counts of Business Theft – Class A Misdemeanor. For those of you counting at home, that makes four total on my record. My sentence given for my revocation (which was considered a separate case) was 60 days in jail. I had already sat for 45 days and was given “good time,” so I was to be released on electronic monitoring after my sentencing for my new charges. Good time, for those who don’t know, is a reduction of your sentence for good behavior when you are sitting for a non-violent crime. My court date for the new charges came, and I was sentenced to 2 years probation, 200 hours community service, counseling, and to pay restitution. The judge also made me eligible for expungement, which meant that if I complied with the terms of my probation and my probation officer okayed it, I would get the new charges cleared off my record (the old one would remain, as well as the fact that I was revoked from probation). So on March 9, 2009, I was let out (and went straight to Burger King). Then on June 4th, my “government issued jewelry,” as my dad called it, was removed.


I am still on probation today, and have undergone a proverbial “180” since my time in orange. Being pregnant and terrified that you messed things up completely will do that to a person. I laid on my narrow cot and cried most of my nights there, when all was quiet after “lights out” and I was left with just my thoughts. Everyone I knew in my life was disappointed in me, as they should be, and I was consumed by questions about my future. How was I going to support my baby? How was I every going to earn back everyone’s trust? How was I ever going to get through this? I had to take a good hard look at the path I was going down, and chose to go running in the opposite direction. I was determined to never be in this situation ever again. In county jail, there are a lot of superstitions surrounding “coming back.” If, while cleaning, the broom touched your feet, you had to spit on it or you’d come back. If you wrote your name on anything there, you’d come back. If you started a book and did not finish it before you were released, you’d come back. Needless to say, I spit on that broom, never wrote my name down, and made damn sure I finished my book. But the biggest reason I have not gone and will never go back is because I have changed fundamentally. My outlook on life is no longer a grim one, and as such my self-destructive behavior is no more.


I learned more than just my lesson in jail. Those girls in Block 4 taught me that you need to make sure you are getting what you want and/or need, and if you upset someone in the process, they get over it. I learned that even when faced with something you think you can’t handle, you get through it every time. And I know now that I am a better me.