I realized this week that Im basically a book maid. We've been so busy and understaffed lately that I feel like my whole purpose at the library is to straighten the sections, shelve books and reboot computers. Wow. I should wear one of those little black and white dresses.
Its been a very hard week. Its hard to stay motivated and enthusiastic when I can shelve for four hours straight and still see a sea of full carts waiting for me. I try to mix it up a bit--doing the other duties we have to do in a day. But really--the job has changed since the new year. Its no longer relaxing and free. I feel like a machine--like we're all just library robots, cranking out books. We now tabulate how many hours we shelve, initial our time in the work room, mark when we complete any of our daily tasks. I dont hate it, even when I feel like smacking someone. Yet I know that there are other library jobs out there for me that will be much better. I miss fun projects. I miss being able to clean a section of the library and know that it will stay clean for at least three days. (Not anymore. Instant mess.) I miss feeling useful and smart. I miss driving home after eight hours there and not feeling like Ive been hit by a truck. Sigh. I mean, Im happy that so many people use their libraries. Hey, thats a miracle in today's consumeristic-buy-it-at-barnes-and-noble instead society, isnt it? But do they have to be so conservative? And messy? And loud? And needy?

In other things, Jeremy read another blog to me this afternoon. Its from Mimi Smartypants (http://smartypants.diaryland.com/011305.html). It reminded him of me. I thought I'd share it.
"WHAT IF?
I was on the way home on the El yesterday, and the snow was coming down like crazy. It seemed like no one was reading or iPodding or even talking on their cell phones, but instead we were all just staring out the train windows at the snow. There were two girls in front of me talking about the snow and one said to the other, "What if, instead of snow, that was bugs?"
What if, indeed. While I appreciate the general sense of dread and awe that goes with this thought (which I take to be something like Eeew, Ick, That Would Be A Lot Of Motherfucking Bugs), I am having a lot of trouble with its general wack-ness, and all day I have been looking at things and thinking What If They Were Other Things? A bowl of cereal: What If This Was Paper Clips? My cat: What If She Were A Trombone? Anyone who reads this page knows that I am capable of large leaps of logic (often I just leap entirely over logic, it's quicker that way), but What If Snow Were Bugs? is one that I can't quite allow. It reminds me of a stoner philosopher who pulls his face out of the bong* and starts talking about What If We Are All Just Figments Of A Sleeping God's Imagination or How Do You Know That When We Say "Blue" We Are Referring To The Same Color or Maybe The Universe Is Really A Steak Burrito And Earth Is Just One Of The Shreds Of Steak And Dude, Let's Order Mexican. I have no patience for this sort of garbage and my usual response is epistemological: How Will We Know, After I Punch You In The Mouth, That You Actually Feel "Pain"? "