And so it begins…

Yesterday evening, I learned that one of my dearest friends was in town.  She graduated last year and I’ve only seen her a couple of times since then.

In light of a long, antisocial Saturday, her visit was an enormous blessing.  Sometimes when I’m alone for too long, I get stuck in my head and need someone to pull me back out.  Allison was exactly what I needed.  She popped in my apartment around six thirty, half an hour before I had to work.  A few minutes of rushed conversation was not enough, so against my usual habits, I ventured forth into the social sphere after my library shift ended at ten.  It was a fantastic night.  Talking with her, someone who knows me deeply and has been there since freshman year, was exactly what I needed.

The problem, though, is that I was out until one in the morning the night before Hell Week.  Oops.

Surprisingly, the repercussions have not been too severe.  I made it through class, work, and working out without feeling overly exhausted.  That hasn’t changed the fact that, whenever I enter my apartment I change from real pants to my p.j. bottoms.  But I’m coping quite well.

To add to my happy thoughts, my Victorian Lit professor cancelled the nearly thirty page article we were supposed to read this week.  And, as a bonus, this was his address in the email: “Dear ever-widening circle of semi-demons who batten on the helpless…“)  How can that not brighten your day?

Also, my paper on verbal hashtags has been submitted and I will be finishing up my Visual Journalism portfolio is nearly complete.  After today, I will be free to devote the entire week to writing my ten-page Dracula essay.

So far, so good.  As long as I stay on top of things, I should make it out alive.

Straight from the circulation desk

Working at the library is akin to riding a bike.  No matter how much time has passed, the second you step behind the desk, all the rules and procedures come flooding back.  You don’t need to review how to check in and out books, handle interlibrary loans, or shelve according to the Library of Congress system.  Your body and mind remembers it, just as you remember how to drive or how to spell your own name.

There’s something incredibly peaceful about an empty library.  You stroll through the stacks, trailing your fingers over volumes upon volumes of beautiful old books.  You push your cart through the aisles, searching for the gap between  BS.4 and BS.45, feeling that rush of satisfaction as you press the book into its home.

During library shifts, your biggest worries are freshman not understanding printing and making sure you find time to do your shelf-reading.  When you’re not handling books, you’re talking with people and helping them figure things out.  More often than not, though, you’re sitting behind the circulation desk (as I am now) doing homework, pleasure reading, or blogging.

It’s a great life I lead.  And yes, it kind of sucks that my first shift of the year is a late-night closing shift, but hey.  I’m just glad to be back!

What job did you have in college?  Did you love it like me, or was it miserable?