It’s about 7:30 am on Tuesday morning. Most of my coworkers have been showing up late over the last week or ten days, and I’m getting used to and growing to enjoy this “alone” time each morning . One thing that has been a constant during my vacation has been the absolute lack of being myself ………..…
It’s now about noon. I can’t remember why I even got off track from writing earlier, but for some reason, I did.
I had to go to the mailroom earlier this morning to pick up a packet containing letters and information from a friend which dated all the way back to the beginning of February. Apparently, every time she sent the packet, it was returned to her. I have no idea why that was happening, and I couldn’t decipher from any of her letters if my mailings had made it through to her. (I think they did.) Anyway, I’m glad to, seemingly, have that issue resolved, and I’ll definitely respond to her this afternoon.
I got a pleasant surprise this past Sunday in the form of a visit from my old roommate. The visit was a contact visit, and I think that may have been an error by the staff here. I thought that non-family members were only supposed to be allowed visits “through” the glass. Oh well, I guess I’m special! J In any case, the visit was a great dose of “normalness”. Each time I return from a visit, I am always amazed at two things. First, I am surprised by how quickly my mind wanders away from my vacation here and is able to focus on outside events. It’s somewhat like waking up from a vivid dream, and then only taking a few seconds to realize that you were indeed only dreaming. The second thing that surprises me after a visit is embarrassing, and I really don’t want to write about it, but in an effort to improve myself, I will endure any warranted harassment.
I am referring to my verbal communication. Since I am judging myself, it is probably impossible for me to determine how much “prison slang” I have incorporated into my vocabulary over the last half year. I’ve tried to refrain, but I’m sure I’ve picked up more that I realize. When my roommate was visiting I caught myself saying the prison slang term “lived”. In context…..here inside the prison we often get asked the question “Where do you live?” This does not refer to a city or town. It refers to a bunk number. There are 4 tanks in each dorm. Each dorm is named by a letter. There are 58 beds in each tank. The bed I sleep in is F2-35, therefore, in here the answer to the above question is simply “F2-35”. I assume that this looks ridiculous for everyone to read, because as I sit here writing, it is becoming even clearer to me how silly it appears in my own mind. Like I’ve said before, I think I’ve done a good job in preventing my vocabulary from shifting, but the cited example above means I’ve got more work to do before I get out of this place. In conclusion, feel free to make fun of or tease me about any habits I’ve formed. Gosh knows, I deserve it! As you do, just keep in mind that I have made a lot of new ‘friends’ who have my back…LOL
I am proud that this blog is the forum that will share with you the following great, yet somewhat unexpected, news. Those of you that are mutual friends of my roommate should share equally in this joy……….. Remodeling on Nashua Street has begun! Can you believe it? I’m not sure what to say. Maybe, “Good things come to those who wait”, or “Patience is a virtue”, or “Miracles do happen”, or simply, “Life is good!” Sorry for the inside joke, but this occasion was just too monumental to let it slip by.
All is good here with me. I’m hoping everyone’s summer has been fun, so far. I’ll talk to you soon.