I have been working hard lately and my brain has just been tired. So I have not been blogging at the frenetic pass I had earlier this year. I was working so hard that last week I spent a day at the other facility ran by my new employers. Now this jail is the older building, dating from around the 1960s and it looks much like you would expect an institution built from that time period would. It has a name, but everyone calls it the workhouse.
I have to say the English major inside me feels positively Dickensian every time I say, workhouse. I told my wife where I was headed. She very dryly said, "Dear have a good day at the workhouse." Yup, I am turning into a character from a Victorian novel. Just call me, Philomena Philes.