tidings of great joy

For a year, I have been explaining the new library print system to patrons. All day. Every day. It's a multi-step system, in three different parts of the library, and not at all simple or intuitive or convenient, so people find it very aggravating. Over the days and weeks and months I worked out the perfect combination of encouragement, sympathetic noises, comedy pantomime, and surprised dismay to keep people from getting angry at me instead of the stupid goddamn print system. Every reference phone call is, "Does the library have a printer I can use?" and every answer is a chipper, "Yes, we sure do!" Weariness set in. This is my life now. I am the print doula, guiding boarding passes from email to paper with the least amount of crying. Maybe I needed a vacation. Maybe I needed to change careers. Something more interesting and meaningful, like a coroner’s assistant, or a pet groomer.

And then this week the printer died. It just dropped stone dead, right in the middle of a print job, and I couldn't get it working again. It took all day for I.T. to install a new printer, and it worked just long enough for them to drive back to Honolulu before it also died. I.T. can't get back out here until next week. After an initial pileup of panicking, angry people, everything went quiet. I haven't had to help anyone print in three days. I can relax and have better conversations with book-seeking patrons, instead of being interrupted every two minutes by someone flapping their phone or flash drive at me. I remember why I like my job.

It's a HOLIDAY MIRACLE.

Everyone please buy your relatives printers for Christmas, save a librarian.


In other news, Plucky is molting and Tiny has become a teen mom.

In the cup: hot cocoa with tequila. On the screen: Watchmen. Festive.