The End of Day Ramblings of a Library Girl

This morning I sat at the knitting table in my hometown library with the handful of ladies--all like second mothers, or maybe close great-aunts, to me--that make up our Tuesday morning Coffee and Chat. Somewhere between the director's youngest son's graduation from medical school, and the benefits of air-drying laundry, the inquiring voices turned to me, the second youngest member of the group (second youngest, only because 10-year-old Sophie made her rare visit today).  "How's the new job?" "Oh! you found a job? Where?"

I have to parcel my answers out to the various corners of the table. "I'm a part-time assistant at the Cheatham Library" I point north, to the county seat. "I start this afternoon, and I'm really looking forward to it!"

The ladies--the great-aunts--they know a few things about me: that my hands will try any needlework that my eye takes a fancy to, and that my heart lies in libraries. They congratulate and cluck over me, agreeing that I couldn't have taken a more suitable position. One of the aunts saw the joy in my smile and eyes as I talked about my excitement for this job in particular and libraries in general, and brought it to my attention. This is what makes me think that I've made the right career choice: I feel most alive when in a library.


And the first night on the job was great.

I was given a drawer for my things, (with my very own name on it), a schedule, a rundown of operations, and a "don't hesitate to ask questions" and was set free. I stood in the middle of the circ-desk, turning 'round acclimating, feeling slightly awkward for all of two minutes; then, a family came and left armloads of returned books--that, I knew how to handle.

First night and I didn't even have to shelf read-- that's a good omen. Shelf-reading means there's nothing else to do, and I'm desperately trying to be useful on the clock. Despite what people may think, just because I work in a library, doesn't mean I get to sit and read when I'm not scanning your card and books. Though, when I did shelve returns, I found my hands falling back into the natural rhythmic moments of spine-straightening and book-end adjusting. These books and I will know each other well soon.

There was a mockingbird in the fireplace chimney, singing sweetly for our benefit. Just one of the perks of a country library.

I defined "geek" for a child-patron, who was wondering about our "Geek the library" campaign.
He geeks comic-book superheroes.
I geek libraries. And Doctor Who. And John Green. And Knitting. And... maybe I shouldn't get started on my obsessions.

Name me another library that plays Happy Trails on a boom-box right after the 15-minutes-till closing-warning. Seriously, I want to know if there's another that does that. Honestly, when the Abby, the assistant director hit play after her announcement to the handful of computer users, I had one of those surreal moments where I could have sworn I was in a movie (the one that Nora Ephron wrote and directed about my life--I know its out there) as I shelved Veronica Roth books in the YA section with the beautifully orchestrated strains of that old cowboy song swelling about me.

I live a glamorous life in my own small way.

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