Yesterday I was idly watching television after supper, and the phone rang. On the other end was the young woman working in the guardroom, asking me if I'd come in to work until midnight. When I arrived (now that we've moved I'm about 2 minutes away including coat-putting-on time) she had her coat on and she ran off.

Only one cell was occupied, and it was a man I know. He greeted me by name, and said, "I'm so glad you're here. That other one gave me dinner and it was still frozen, and she's been outside smoking all evening, and I'm dying of thirst." I went down to the coffee room and bought him a pop and a bag of chips, then sat on the floor for an hour and we talked through the little window in the cell door. He's feeling very sorry for himself, for various reasons, but there's also a realization that he's brought all this on himself, and we talked about that. Although I had been annoyed at being called back to work after already doing a full day of transcribing, it seemed like he really needed to talk. Afterwards, he settled down and went to sleep, and I worked on the baby blanket I'm crocheting (I give them to the income support office, I'm not having any more babies.)

The only problem with working the evening shift is that I end up back home again at midnight, and I can't go to sleep right away. It happened again tonight, the same girl called and talked me into coming in. So here I am. And I'll still be up relatively early, because I like to get to work before eight thirty in the mornings, to clean up after the night shift and make coffee for the day shift. Even though really I don't have to, because making coffee isn't in any of my job descriptions. Oh, well.