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So… I Guess I’m an Entrepreneur Now?

  • Miranda Brown
  • 3 hours ago
  • 2 min read

If you had told me a year ago that I’d be launching a website, learning SEO, and attempting entrepreneurship, I probably would have laughed and asked if you’d had too much coffee.

Yet here we are.

Almost 60 days in the Sarasota County Jail has a way of rearranging your life priorities. When you come out the other side, the normal world feels a little different. Doors close. Job applications get awkward. And suddenly you realize the traditional “career path” doesn’t always have a lane for people with fresh criminal charges and an ankle monitor.

So this website is my attempt to build something anyway.

My background is a strange mix of things that don’t normally show up on the same résumé:

  • Nursing

  • Cooking (stress baking and cooking is basically an Olympic sport at this point)

  • Sarcasm as a personality trait (that has sharpened with age)

  • And an accidental talent for people-watching after spending weeks observing the human ecosystem of a county jail dorm and being nicknamed in this order..."CI", "PREA", "60 Day's in" and "Rosie".

Now I’m trying to turn that combination into something resembling entrepreneurship.

I’m learning the mysterious world of SEO, building this website one confused click at a time, and hoping maybe—just maybe—it turns into enough “coffee money” to fund morning chats at Whole Foods with a few of my former jail bunkies.

Those conversations matter more than people realize.

Because when the jail doors close behind you, the hardest part isn’t always the time inside. It’s what happens after. Finding work. Paying fees. Navigating probation rules. Rebuilding a life while the system quietly follows you everywhere.

A lot of the women I met inside are still trying to figure that part out too.

So this site is a few things at once:

Part story.Part experiment.Part survival strategy.

It’s also where I’ll be sharing pieces of the story behind my upcoming book, Almost 60 Days In, along with the absurd, frustrating, and occasionally hilarious reality of rebuilding life after incarceration.

If nothing else, maybe it will prove one thing:

Even people who’ve spent time in jail can still build something new.

Preferably with good coffee and a healthy amount of sarcasm.

 
 
 

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