Today was my first day using the bus. My workplace conveniently lies along one of the major transportation arteries but this was my first time using the public transit in my town. Like many higher income white Americans, I never really thought much about the bus, other than that it was for people who for some reason or another didn't own or couldn't afford a car.
The ride was very pleasant and I've convinced myself I might as well feel the same sort of pretension found amongst many hybrid-auto owners. Who cares that I am riding the bus due to being a criminal instead of some sort of progressive green political consciousness? Think globally, commit crime locally!
When I returned Robbins had a scowl on his face. Apparently, I was late according to the CO's schedule. Luckily, I still had my approved request form (secured in the Welcome To Jail Kit) and showed him that whoever added my schedule to their logbook must have misread.
"It is OK this time, Presario," said Robbins, "but this is why you need to come to the office when we call Blue Sheet each night." I had heard that announced through the garbled speaker but had no idea what it was. Prison creates a self-doubt and submission that is hard to explain; when I did not know what "Blue Sheet" was I did not ask for fear of irritating the COs with my ignorance.
"Blue Sheet" is actually the book containing everyone's work schedules on the block. Anyone who expects to work the next day is supposed to check their schedule each evening, after the CO calls Blue Sheet.
Instead of calling this the "Work Schedule", it is called "Blue Sheet", naturally because the paper happens to be blue.
I do not believe this cognitive dissonance - obligation to follow rules and procedures but no communication regarding them - is unintentional.
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