I recently got a voicemail from someone who said, “Dude, you only served 18 months. What are you complaining about?”
Let me be clear: I’m not complaining. But I do have regrets.
One of them has stuck with me for 17 years. And it came rushing back while I stood on the 7th tee at Pebble Beach with a group of close friends—finally doing something I turned down back in 2007.
The Trip I Said No To
On January 22nd, 2007—my 32nd birthday—I signed my plea agreement. A week later, a few close friends offered to take me on a trip to Pebble Beach. Golf, good food, fresh air, distraction. A chance to be around people I cared about.
I said no.
Why?
Because I didn’t see the point. I was going to prison. Life felt over. Why bother golfing, laughing, enjoying anything?
So they went without me. And I stayed home, stuck in my own self-imposed mental prison—weeks before the physical one even started.
That Was a Mistake
Seventeen years later, I stood on that same course with close friends, finally playing that round. The sun was out, the wind was up, and it hit me—I could have had this moment years ago.
Sure, the prison term ended. But the regret stuck around much longer than 18 months.
And that’s the point I want to make to you if you’re reading this and still on the outside.
You’re Not in Prison Yet. So Act Like It.
If you’re under investigation or waiting for sentencing, I get it—nothing feels right. You don’t feel like celebrating, or relaxing, or even living. You feel like life’s been put on pause.
But that’s where most people go wrong.
It’s one of the most dangerous mental mistakes people make before prison—pulling back from life as if it’s already over.
You start canceling on friends.
You stop doing things that bring you joy.
You live like you’re already serving time.
And when that actual prison clock starts, you realize you wasted the time you had.
Use the Time You Still Have
I’m not telling you to party or pretend nothing’s happening. That’s not what this is about.
This is about giving yourself permission to still be a human being—someone who can spend time with friends, take your wife to a movie, laugh with your kids, walk the dog, read a good book.
Because you’re not in prison yet.
And if you’re just going to sit around being unproductive and miserable, you might as well get the sentence started now.
Instead—use this time to do three things:
1. Be Present with the People Who Matter
Call a friend. Go to dinner. Don’t let the weight of what’s coming make you disappear on the people who love you.
2. Do the Things You Still Enjoy
If you love golf, play. If you love cooking, cook. If you love walking the beach, do it. You don’t owe guilt your free time.
3. Get Productive on Your Terms
Write your narrative. Prepare for sentencing. Join our webinar. Learn what mitigation really means. But don’t shut down.
Doing nothing isn’t noble. It’s just another way of quitting early.
That Missed Trip Still Bothers Me
I should’ve gone to Pebble Beach in 2007. I should’ve let my friends show up for me. I should’ve remembered that prison takes your time eventually—but it doesn’t have to take it early.
I lost that moment. I won’t lose another.
You don’t have to either.
If this hits close to home—if you’re in that waiting phase, stuck between charges and prison—just remember:
You’re not in prison today.
So don’t live like you are.
Justin Paperny
P. S. If this resonates, join our team this Tuesday at 11a.m. Pacific, 2 p.m. Eastern. We host a free webinar to answer questions, share lessons from real cases, and help you avoid the most costly mistakes people make during a government investigation. Bring questions. Come ready to learn.
