So many things that happen to me at the moment, I can't talk about. Not that I'm trying to be coy, or anything, but I can't discuss what happens at work. And I wish I could, because some of it is very emotional. It was court week this week, and we had folk on remand staying the week. Usually the lockup is just drunks or mentally unbalanced folk. Not much in the way of conversation. I'll never understand drunk people. I mean, if I've already said no you can't have any coffee until you're sober, and then you start insulting me (I get a lot of racial/sexual slurs) do you really think I'm going to go, "Oh, dear, I'd better give you coffee so you stop calling me names." I know the Innuinaqtuin for stupid white chick. So don't think you're fooling me with that either. I also know most of the names for sexual organs.

Anyway. This week, with regular sober folk, I actually had some conversations, and felt like I was actually doing something useful. At 4 o'clock the other morning, before a couple of them were due to appear in court, I was listening to their anxieties...

What I'm saying, I guess, is that it feels strange to be writing a blog that can't really reflect what I'm doing. When I was running the lottery booth, I used to be able to report on my strange happenings. But not now.