passing and found them pleasant enough, although most kept to themselves which made it easier.
I'd particularly gotten to know my neighbor across the hall. Serafina was a single mom with a five-year-old son, Miguel. I'd been on a baking spree and decided to bite the bullet one evening and took some chocolate chip cookies over. They were an instant hit with Miguel. Serafina, although polite, was harder to win over, and I suspected she had her own tough life story that made her cautious. Perhaps she recognized a kindred spirit, however, because she was warming up and had even invited me over for a traditional Spanish meal of arroz con pollo.
It turned out I had worried needlessly about meeting my new boss. I'd been scared she would view me with suspicion or disdain. But to my delight, Mrs. Holmes was friendly and patient as she explained my role as a General Service Clerk. I began my days filling any requests for supplies from individual offices. Then the rest of the day was spent making copies and binding countless materials until the mail came. It was my responsibility to sort and deliver it. Any spare time I had was spent maintaining the legal library. I had always been good at organizing things and had some similar experience working at the prison library. I caught on quickly, and Mrs. Holmes praised my efforts.
I didn't find it difficult work, and it was varied enough I didn't get bored, although it wasn't something I wanted to do the rest of my life. I recognized I was extraordinarily fortunate to have such a supportive opportunity. Too many of my peers were thrust suddenly back into society without any support system in place. I could see where having so much freedom could be trouble for many former inmates who might be tempted by the dangers that lurked around every corner like alcohol, drugs, sex, quick tempers, and judgmental people once they learned about the dark shadows of your past. So much freedom all at once could be a dangerous thing for many.
I still sometimes fought the need to look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't the bulls-eye for a knife or fist, or some other twisted, perverted action. I avoided large crowds at all costs after nearly hyperventilating once when I found myself caught up in the five o'clock rush of employees anxious to get home. After being bumped into and knocked about, I'd somehow managed to escape into a bathroom where I hid in a stall for close to an hour, calming my wildly beating heart and steadying my breathing before I garnered enough confidence to try again. Now, instead of leaving with everyone else, I clocked out at the appointed hour but hung out between the quiet rows of books in the legal library or the break room. It wasn't like there was anyone expecting me at home or anywhere else.
I still wasn't completely comfortable with just my own company in the evenings. In an odd sense, I suppose I missed the structure of having my days and evenings planned out for me. I was learning to appreciate the quiet at my apartment, but there were still times I felt at a loss for what to do. Given my love for books, I often spent evenings at the nearby public library.
On one of my visits there, a brightly decorated bulletin board caught my eye. Large letters announcing 'Job Opportunities' stood out at the top. Curious, I scanned the many fliers that covered the board. Most were for telemarketing positions, home sales, or courier opportunities, none of which caught my interest. I turned to leave, but bold letters on a blue sheet of paper halted my tracks. 'Online Tutors Needed.' Maybe I couldn't teach in a classroom environment, but maybe I'd be allowed to help if it was online. The paper outlined that they needed individuals who could be available to answer assist students during evening hours over the computer. I borrowed a piece of paper and pencil and copied down the information.
The next day, I used my lunch break to call and inquire about the position. A friendly woman named
I'd particularly gotten to know my neighbor across the hall. Serafina was a single mom with a five-year-old son, Miguel. I'd been on a baking spree and decided to bite the bullet one evening and took some chocolate chip cookies over. They were an instant hit with Miguel. Serafina, although polite, was harder to win over, and I suspected she had her own tough life story that made her cautious. Perhaps she recognized a kindred spirit, however, because she was warming up and had even invited me over for a traditional Spanish meal of arroz con pollo.
It turned out I had worried needlessly about meeting my new boss. I'd been scared she would view me with suspicion or disdain. But to my delight, Mrs. Holmes was friendly and patient as she explained my role as a General Service Clerk. I began my days filling any requests for supplies from individual offices. Then the rest of the day was spent making copies and binding countless materials until the mail came. It was my responsibility to sort and deliver it. Any spare time I had was spent maintaining the legal library. I had always been good at organizing things and had some similar experience working at the prison library. I caught on quickly, and Mrs. Holmes praised my efforts.
I didn't find it difficult work, and it was varied enough I didn't get bored, although it wasn't something I wanted to do the rest of my life. I recognized I was extraordinarily fortunate to have such a supportive opportunity. Too many of my peers were thrust suddenly back into society without any support system in place. I could see where having so much freedom could be trouble for many former inmates who might be tempted by the dangers that lurked around every corner like alcohol, drugs, sex, quick tempers, and judgmental people once they learned about the dark shadows of your past. So much freedom all at once could be a dangerous thing for many.
I still sometimes fought the need to look over my shoulder to make sure I wasn't the bulls-eye for a knife or fist, or some other twisted, perverted action. I avoided large crowds at all costs after nearly hyperventilating once when I found myself caught up in the five o'clock rush of employees anxious to get home. After being bumped into and knocked about, I'd somehow managed to escape into a bathroom where I hid in a stall for close to an hour, calming my wildly beating heart and steadying my breathing before I garnered enough confidence to try again. Now, instead of leaving with everyone else, I clocked out at the appointed hour but hung out between the quiet rows of books in the legal library or the break room. It wasn't like there was anyone expecting me at home or anywhere else.
I still wasn't completely comfortable with just my own company in the evenings. In an odd sense, I suppose I missed the structure of having my days and evenings planned out for me. I was learning to appreciate the quiet at my apartment, but there were still times I felt at a loss for what to do. Given my love for books, I often spent evenings at the nearby public library.
On one of my visits there, a brightly decorated bulletin board caught my eye. Large letters announcing 'Job Opportunities' stood out at the top. Curious, I scanned the many fliers that covered the board. Most were for telemarketing positions, home sales, or courier opportunities, none of which caught my interest. I turned to leave, but bold letters on a blue sheet of paper halted my tracks. 'Online Tutors Needed.' Maybe I couldn't teach in a classroom environment, but maybe I'd be allowed to help if it was online. The paper outlined that they needed individuals who could be available to answer assist students during evening hours over the computer. I borrowed a piece of paper and pencil and copied down the information.
The next day, I used my lunch break to call and inquire about the position. A friendly woman named
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