Jail Jabber...

I'm still alive and they do let me out each day to sleep in my own bed.

My hours have changed to 8:00 a.m. - 1:00 p.m. although I have yet to work those hours. There seems to be a great deal of pissery going on behind my back because I only work 6 hours a day. Fortunately, I am out of range most of the time and up on the floors, where everyone else in the building is as nice as they can be. The 4 inmates we have working with us are nicer to me than the two, what can I call them? Yes, that's it....whatever you were thinking to call my co-workers. 8:00 a.m. traffic really sucks. I started this today and got there at 7:30 because I was worrying about being late. I'm going to go in the same tomorrow and get some toast in the "beverage, lunch, food place" I don't know what they call it. That way I can start taking my vitamins again and hopefully it will help with this fatigue and not being able to eat right. I didn't eat right before, but I wasn't moving. I was sitting here with you guys and I miss it!

This is not an actual photo, but it's the most similar I could find. I drag, push, pull my fully loaded huge, what looks like a laundry cart, through elevators, hallways and many locked doors and arrive here to spread out their order on the table, which is a bit bigger than these. The doors look like these, but they have a little meal tray slot where I can see and hear inmates calling out a variety of things, the most being "Hey Commissary Lady". Each Deputy is different. Some actually help. It is an extremely controlled environment when I am in there. I have seen nothing to blog about, except maybe chest hair, and they get in trouble for not having their "suit" buttoned up. Not one has gotten out of hand. I have yet to serve on the 2 floors, 6S and 8S where the hardcore female & males are. Those always seem to be left for the afternoon for some reason.

No two days are the same it seems. When I think I've got it together, something changes or "someone" figures out she was wrong, or forgot what she told me. She is a pathetic Supervisor and moves as fast as the speed of a half-dead snail. She OCD's over friggin paperwork to the point of insanity. Everything neat and loves little piles of paper, which I hate. Come on already, we need to MOVE so I can get the hell out of here! I'm just afraid she is going to move TOO slow and they are going to THINK they need a F/T person. Other times, I'll get started and have to stop because of lunch coming, and inspection, or some jail procedure.

The inmates have for the most part been well-behaved. Could be that guard, oh, WITH NO GUN, way over there on the other side of the cell block. Yes, sometimes, they get too far away from me and it doesn't bother me unless there are 10 or more guys out walking around. There is only one other person and they are in the tower and have to come through 2 locked doors to get there? I had one get pissed off over frigging cheeze doodles being out of stock. I mean extremely pissed off. I wanted to tell him this wasn't effing Walmart and to get over it. They tend to give me crap about their order, and I didn't get this, or where'd my money go or why isn't my money being shown. I tried to explain at first, but this took way too long. Just take your SHIT and go! Politely, of course.

I actually like this job though and hope it lasts. I have fun with it for the most part. I'm not the least bit scared, but am cautious when I need to be. Physically, my body is exhausted because I haven't walked or stood this much since I was about 3. I'm alternating shoes cause I heard that somewhere. I'm watching the Olympics and feeling really old. I'm cringing on the diving competition and tucking my head to keep from hitting that platform. I think about posting but my brain is lacking any creativity whatsoever. I started out wearing latex gloves and they slowed me down so much, so I'm thinking of buying stock in Purrell. Even my hands hurt.

It's Wednesday night and I'm not even sure if we are going to the lake. I need to pressure wash the camper and deck. Oh yes, I have a son. Oh, no that's right, he's too busy. I had to mow the yard yesterday. See above. I told him they actually sell food at the grocery store if he gets hungry. Yes, I may have a love affair while working at the jail....and it's with my bed :)