It's the middle of summer. I sweat while working, and I sweat while sitting...
I even sweat in my sleep. I know this to be true because whenever I wake up my pillow will be soaked with perspiration.
It's difficult living in a cell without a window in it. As the readers of my journal know, my cell at Sullivan had a window, and therefore had a flow of fresh air. But this is not the case at Shawangunk. Here at "The Gunk" there are several old cast iron fans that are bolted to the walls at both ends of the tier. They're on night, and day, their whirring blades sounding like the propellers on a World War II bomber. But other than making a lot of noise, I think they're useless. They'll push hot air and dust down the gallery, while fans at the opposite end will push everything back.
Yet I'm surviving. The summer will pass, eventually. Meanwhile, I remain at my job in the library, where I'm learning how to be a clerk. I'm becoming more adept at using a computer, too.
D.B.
It's difficult living in a cell without a window in it. As the readers of my journal know, my cell at Sullivan had a window, and therefore had a flow of fresh air. But this is not the case at Shawangunk. Here at "The Gunk" there are several old cast iron fans that are bolted to the walls at both ends of the tier. They're on night, and day, their whirring blades sounding like the propellers on a World War II bomber. But other than making a lot of noise, I think they're useless. They'll push hot air and dust down the gallery, while fans at the opposite end will push everything back.
Yet I'm surviving. The summer will pass, eventually. Meanwhile, I remain at my job in the library, where I'm learning how to be a clerk. I'm becoming more adept at using a computer, too.
D.B.
