When I got to my room, I found that Janie was in there with her ironing board all set up and a huge pile of ironing she was working on. It looked like a bunch of men’s shirts, so I didn’t ask her about it because really I didn’t want to know. The Jesus-flavored pop music she was singing along to didn’t seem terribly conducive to appreciation of Shakespeare, so I just said hi and dropped off my things and took my copy of Hamlet to the study room at the end of the hall. Read the rest of the story »