We finally have staffing at the front desk, so I have been freed up to move into the back office to do my co-worker's job while she's on leave. All day long I get to catalog books, put barcodes and property stamps and labels on them, cover them with plastic, and get them out onto the New Books shelves. I can listen to podcasts and look through each new book that comes through the library, walking out to the front desk occasionally to answer tricky questions or help kids find what they need, and the day flies by. I forgot what it felt like to be happy to come to work. I am living the Paul Rudd meme.
Finished uploading the final illustrations for my second book project, and I'm DONE. Back to painting in my sketchbook on my lunch breaks. I signed up for an online atelier program, and I'm starting at the very beginning with the kids, teaching them classical drawing skills on the weekends. So far they're on board. We'll see if they can make it through Bargue drawing and into painting a single egg.
The guy who hung around the library doing meth, waving his dick at people, spraying scribble graffiti, and throwing bricks through the windows of neighboring buildings has finally been arrested for robbing a 7-11 with a realistic pellet gun. IMMEDIATELY we got a new guy who laugh-screams like a maniacal villain and tries to light "cooking" fires in the driveway. Oh well. At least he stays outside.
I have another local cable interview next week because my colleague didn't think the last one was as bad as I did. He asked for it - here I come with my awkward jokes and garbled book summaries.
Dumped dirt on my flower beds, bought a couple plants and left them on the porch. Feeling like a homesteader.
Things are okay around here. I am suspicious.
Easter went smoothly, with baskets and candy and plastic eggs lost forever in hiding spots around the house. I sent a delivery of prime rib and cheesecake to my college kid, made a big meal with three desserts, fed the family, took pictures of my cousins (I have been the only person to take pictures of them for their entire lives, so they lined up expectantly when I picked up the camera), and then dropped like a rock the minute everyone went home. There are no pictures of me, because I am also the only person to take pictures of my own self, and I forgot because I was too distressed by the flan cake, which was fully cooked but sagged just enough in the center to look like a puckered butthole. Happy Easter.
At work, my coworker was gone, we had a college student starting her first day, and we were rolling out the new RFID circulation/security system, so I was training and trouble-shooting while also trying to process a big pile of new books. It made the day go very fast. "Don't worry," I told our new part-timer after a weird guy started barking at the water fountain, "We only have to call the police once or twice a year." Three hours later someone started screaming violently behind the library and then played dead on the ground when we came to investigate, so the police were called. Sorry, new person.
