I have been sending a lot of posts to draft, just because I'll write and then get weepy about Max and not want to publish that to the entire Internet. This next bit is lifted from the post I wrote when I sat down here, at about 9 am.
Sorry, you're going to have to rely on the fact that this is typed as quickly as possible so I can run off to get breakfast and go to church. (Yes, Kelly pointed out that right now it might be okay for me to go both to Bellefield and OD for the mere STRUCTURE while I'm depressed and the fact that for me, going to Bellefield is like going home.)
And, if I'm going to church, I might as well go to Sunday school, it's about the Bible. (Well, um, I guess that would be self-evident, but this one is like how to read the Bible, oh never mind.)
I had a dream that I was at a party with my former Mary Kay director and her latest star, who had a 2 Billion dollar year. In my dream, I thought, I'll quit my job, get a 9-5, do MK evenings and weekends until I can support myself. Earlier on in a different dream (I slept 11 hours, I had a monton of dreams.) I had asked my boss if I could join a play, be the wizardess and she said, no. Something about how I was better suited to working with the children. And frankly, part of why I wanted to be in the play was because there would be men in the play--in our building that employs over 86 people, 5 are men. 1 is a librarian, 1 is the main accountant/head of admin, and one is the PR guy. Two are maintenance. Oh sorry, I forgot the two shelvers. But they are admittedly BOYS, and there is a difference.
So I woke up from my dream thinking about Special Libraries, and how I had in Chicago (two years ago, when I was young and impetuous) at the ALA convention decided that this "public library" life was not for me, that I'd rather a special library (which are like museum libraries, law libraries, etc.) Now that I'm a bit older, I've changed my mind. I need lots of people. And the thing about being a librarian in a building where everyone else is something else (like a museum, or a school, or a law firm) is that you are isolated. (As opposed to being a librarian where a few other people are librarians.) GAH! That would be horrible. The thing I like most of all about my job is talking to co-workers about work related things. (Okay, one of the things.) Marian the Librarian is my life-line, I adore the committee I'm on for the Summer Reading Club (with librarians from other libraries). So even though it sounds uber cool to be a librarian for a special collection of children's books, I think I would not like the isolation.
Gah, look at the time. I'll be showering before OD, I think not before Bellefield. I was VERY late last week to Sunday School, so I don't know why I care that I'm sort of on time today. Maybe it's a new leaf thing.**
This next bit is new:
I bought a new Bible yesterday from Badger's abusive boyfriend. (Half Price Books.) (As I link that up, I think, isn't that a great sentence? Like yeah, her lug of a boyfriend was selling lime green bibles, and well, I bought one...) It was really ugly, with this stupid coin-purse thing stitched to the front, but it was the only one I really liked, and I figured it would look okay if I unstitched the coinpurse. Which it does, except that you can tell something WAS stitched.
When I lost my car, I lost three Bibles (yes, why did I keep three Bibles in my car? I don't know, I knew where they were. My car has always been an extension of my living room.) A regular Bible, which has been replaced by this one I just got, (except that that one was PINK), a tiny blue King James, and a Study Bible. When we cleared out my car the night of the accident, Sally (NH) didn't realize this might be the last time I'd be in my car (because I didn't tell her) and I had the front seat, she had the back, and she didn't grab the Bibles. She grabbed the library books, and I'm grateful she was able to be there with me as I waited for the tow truck, so it's not hard feelings, but sad. It's okay to be sad about three Bibles, I know that. But I guess I have to unravel the "why didn't she read my mind" and "why didn't she grab them" and "why didn't I go back for them, they were a mile away from me the whole time we were waiting for my car to be determinded total loss" from "it's okay to be sad."
Oh, I need Mr. Rogers. If he were still around, I'd write to him and ask him to do a series for adults like the books for kids, "Going to the hospital," and "Divorce." I'd ask him to write a book about "Mourning the loss of your really pretty car in an accident and then because you're broke, buying one that is almost old enough to smoke a cigarette legally and isn't as pretty and has been a regular pain in the neck."
I do like having a cassette player--I miss not being able to play CDs, but as libraries catch up, there are a lot of audiobooks that probably will never be available on CD. Like High Fidelity. Which I need to return to the car. I probably should go online and see if I can find my own copy.*
Okay, now I'm going to be late for Sunday School. So now I can try to find some clothes that match and find some breakfast (maybe drive thru?) (No, I really want take-out from Tazza...) (I hate that I now have a car payment.) (But it's not a HUGE one.)
Gah, I don't want "it's not a huge one" to be the last sentence of this post. Here's another thing I've realized. I'm not the blogger I once was. I used to spend hours reading everyone else's blog and commenting. Now I'll read Babelbabe, Daysgoby, and some others. (I don't even read Badger every day--but I go there at least once a week, hon, I promise!! And, I linked to you!) I don't even read Blackbird, hardly, or LC, or Caro. And I know once I start working on my novella again (before the end of January...I better start!!) I will probably be reading and commenting even less. Part of it is that a lot of Blogger functions are now blocked at my workplace, which in the end is a good thing, because I don't really blog about being a librarian very much. Part of it is that I've been sleeping eleven hours a night! And part of it (oh the truth hurts) is that it's HARD to keep up online relationships. It just is. Email is pretty one dimensional.
But I still love you guys, or I wouldn't publish, they'd all go to draft.
Oh, I don't want that to be the last sentence either.
Oh, here's a quote from my desk, from Maya Angelou. It's how I feel about blogging and my novella: "There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you."
Mwah! Off to my day. (Did I mention I'm going to see Bucket List? I'll let you know if it's as good as it looks.)
*asterisk? There was no asterisk!
**new leaf, old leaf, I'm going to be late.
1 day ago