Not the happy Anne that is wanted
What do I like about being a librarian?
That's a good question.
I think it's the fact I can help people find the right answers.
Thing is, though . . . that's not what being a children's librarian is about.
Maybe it's because I'm depressed today but I really don't find any point to my job. Oh, yes, to sit at the desk so Kit doesn't have to. To say to people, "This is the children's section. You can't use those computers. Go upstairs." To ask the same questions everyday "Are you looking for (insert item here) for you or for children because this is the children's section." and put away the same books everyday. (Dr. Seuss, Hannah Montana, and the various books on poop we have)
Seeing the same people day after day . . .
Bus 10's schedule changed. If I want to get to work before 9:30 (how odd to want to get on work on time) I have to leave at 8am. Great. The bus hits Charles Center at 8:25, 8:35, and 8:53, thus meaning I get to work at 9:00, 9:15, and 9:25.
Sara said she's picking me up Saturday morning. Because A) the weather is going to be bad, and b) that if I have to leave the house before 7:30 to catch a bus for my 9am job, it's wrong.
Sara and I are going to switch storytimes. I'm going to have 3-5 year olds and she's going to take 2s. Which suits me. I'm not so good with kids that young . . . they want to jump and play and at that age, I didn't. I never remember being like that ever.
That's why I look the way I do, probably.
Sara asked if I want to do a drawing class. It's an idea that frightens me some . . .
but I'll probably do it.
I'm easily frightened. Or rather, I'm a coward. After being raised to depend on others then having to do things on one's own . . . it makes things difficult.
So I have friends that live far away. Steph, Christine, Chris-Luke, Jen . . .
I sometimes email them . . . but mostly I read their LJs if they have one.
Do I call them?
No.
Why?
Phones are used for business only.
After all these years, I can't get over that. The phone was father's. People called him about business. He called people about business. Mother called people to set up appointments. Bill never used the phone. I used the phone once and called Europe. I was forbade to ever pick up the phone again or to touch it.
I don't like phones.
Luckily, at work our phones are broken.
Patrons don't call us with questions. They walk-in instead.
Oh well. I'm just complaining.
As usual.
*sigh*
That's a good question.
I think it's the fact I can help people find the right answers.
Thing is, though . . . that's not what being a children's librarian is about.
Maybe it's because I'm depressed today but I really don't find any point to my job. Oh, yes, to sit at the desk so Kit doesn't have to. To say to people, "This is the children's section. You can't use those computers. Go upstairs." To ask the same questions everyday "Are you looking for (insert item here) for you or for children because this is the children's section." and put away the same books everyday. (Dr. Seuss, Hannah Montana, and the various books on poop we have)
Seeing the same people day after day . . .
Bus 10's schedule changed. If I want to get to work before 9:30 (how odd to want to get on work on time) I have to leave at 8am. Great. The bus hits Charles Center at 8:25, 8:35, and 8:53, thus meaning I get to work at 9:00, 9:15, and 9:25.
Sara said she's picking me up Saturday morning. Because A) the weather is going to be bad, and b) that if I have to leave the house before 7:30 to catch a bus for my 9am job, it's wrong.
Sara and I are going to switch storytimes. I'm going to have 3-5 year olds and she's going to take 2s. Which suits me. I'm not so good with kids that young . . . they want to jump and play and at that age, I didn't. I never remember being like that ever.
That's why I look the way I do, probably.
Sara asked if I want to do a drawing class. It's an idea that frightens me some . . .
but I'll probably do it.
I'm easily frightened. Or rather, I'm a coward. After being raised to depend on others then having to do things on one's own . . . it makes things difficult.
So I have friends that live far away. Steph, Christine, Chris-Luke, Jen . . .
I sometimes email them . . . but mostly I read their LJs if they have one.
Do I call them?
No.
Why?
Phones are used for business only.
After all these years, I can't get over that. The phone was father's. People called him about business. He called people about business. Mother called people to set up appointments. Bill never used the phone. I used the phone once and called Europe. I was forbade to ever pick up the phone again or to touch it.
I don't like phones.
Luckily, at work our phones are broken.
Patrons don't call us with questions. They walk-in instead.
Oh well. I'm just complaining.
As usual.
*sigh*