Today I am reminded again how nice it is to work at home: PMS and a happy day at the office cannot coexist.
Yesterday I was not yet afflicted with the womanly curse and so enjoyed my volunteering at the library, followed by a few hours of editing. Schools should mention to all MLS candidates that a few physical maladies are sure to follow them in their future careers as librarians. First, you will have terribly dry hands. Second, you will feel as if you are covered in dust at all times. Third, your hair will be a frizzy mess. All this because of the library climate.
I've also wondered if librarians are ever the victims of violent outbursts or acts of terrorism; it seems plausible because libraries are open to everyone and often form a haven for homeless and mentally disabled (see last paragraph). Could this be a paranoid thought? Perhaps I'm the one whose mentally disabled.
I perused several books of interest while ostensibly tending my shelves. I described the creepy Lincoln's Assassins: Their Trial and Execution to Taylor last night in bed (because what sleep preceded by talk of executions isn't sound?). Of course, he already knew everything I described to him and had even seen the haunting photographs by Alexander Gardner of the four conspirators (including Mary Surratt) being hanged, side by side on a long platform. In one image, the dangling bodies are blurry, as the victims struggle before dying.
The most egregiously misfiled book: The Colossal Book of Mathematics, which had somehow made its way to the 970s from the 500s.
The least appealing book based on title: I Want to Juggle.
The most striking title: Big Enough to Be Inconsistent.
Most annoying patron: The twenty-something leather-clad guy, who not only had to ask a neighbour how to slide open the outlet cover, but then spent his time listening to music on his laptop. He wore headphones, but made such a display of air-drumming, with arms flapping and feet tapping, that the headphones became moot not mute. I wanted to punish this guy for being socially awkward.