Mildly Surly Thursday

 I'm not really surly. This week has been pretty good, after last week's intense-fest (Eve being home, Matt being sick with Covid, me trying to work and feed and nurse everyone). 

I love my job. I get to work with books, I get to see kids, many of whom love coming to the library, and I get to do it part-time so it doesn't burn out my body and brain. I was having a major back issue that was really distressing, and I finally figured out that it was the crappy chairs, not the being on my feet. I started bringing a cushion and it has nearly resolved, which is a massive relief.

Last year at my Thursday school the grade sevens and eights coming in at recess were loud and disruptive and stressing me out. I don't like shushing, and I try really hard not to think of any student as "bad", and I felt ineffective and started to dread Thursdays. Then one of my friends (HI KERRY) said "okay, but you know how some adults are just assholes? Some kids are also just assholes" and it was a huge lightbulb moment. Some kids are just assholes! It doesn't mean they're evil, or irredeemable, but it does mean it's not fun to have them around right now, and THAT'S OKAY. Plus I found out they weren't actually allowed to come in the library at recess and were counting on me not knowing that, so it all got better.

Last week on Thursday there was a class in and when the teacher told them (several times) to line up because they were leaving, some boys in the back corner in the comfy chairs ignored her (or didn't hear her because they were being loud). I went back finally and said they'd been asked multiple times to leave and ignoring their teacher was disrespectful and rude. One boy said "wait, are we getting kicked out or is it our time to leave?" and I said "a little of both!" which he took with great equanimity. And I felt kind of like a tv show school librarian who is strict AND funny.

It is really kind of cool being able to wandering around schools and experience everything without having to be an actual teacher (because lord, I could never). On my way into one school on Wednesday I held the door for two little boys, one of whom had a spider in his hands that they had found in the classroom and were releasing outside (I mean COME ON). Then today two little girls started to hold the door for me and then changed their minds and ran away laughing. In the library on Thursdays the kids have cards to check their own books out, and one little girl called out "Madame Allison, something went wrong!" and I knew that I would know how to fix it, which is kind of a cool feeling that I almost never have anywhere else.

So it's a constant sort of thing that in a school library you're always trying to get books checked in as quickly as possible, because most of the main librarians don't allow students to check out books if they still have books. But if there are piles of books waiting to be checked in, I can't tell who has returned their books and who hasn't. So when I come in and there are bins of books, I have to figure out which books belong to the classes I'm about to see. Does that makes sense?

It's the best when teachers send down their books at the start of the day, but I completely understand why sometimes they can't, or forget. Sometimes there is a pile of books and I start checking them in and they belong to a class I'm not even going to see that day, in which case I get undeservedly kind of ticked off, like what's even the point of getting these checked in now? This is dumb - it's always better to get them checked in and back on the shelves, but that is my first cranky impulse, because I frequently forget that I don't actually have to rush because I am The Librarian and nothing happens until I say it can happen, so just sit your little butts down and wait until I finish scanning these, and DON'T TOUCH THAT YET.

Both Eve and I had long days after nights with almost no sleep yesterday, so when we texted at the end of the day we were both eager to tell each other something funny. Even funnier was that we wanted to tell each other the same thing and weren't sure if the other one knew it already. Eve's BFF Marianna has a Coton de Tulear dog named Piper, who is a bolter, unlike Lucy who sometimes goes out when we're unloading groceries and gets accidentally left outside, and barks on the step to come back in. Piper got out yesterday while workers were in the house, which I saw when the mom (who is a friend) posted in the Lost Pets neighbourhood group on Facebook, so I texted her. I knew she was afraid to tell Marianna who is many provinces away and would totally freak out. A few hours later I saw on the Facebook post that Piper had been found and was at the Humane Society....

...in doggy jail

I texted Di and told her she had to use that picture for their Christmas card. I texted Eve and she texted back "STOP I was going to tell you! Piper behind bars!"

On my way home from work today I stopped at the grocery store. As I was driving into the parking lot I saw an elderly woman get out of her car and just stand there. I parked and was walking to the store and saw her still standing there, which seemed concerning, so I caught her eye and smiled. She said "could I please take your arm?" and I said sure. She was quite wobbly, and I asked if she was there alone. She said her cat was out of food and that was the only reason she was there. As we walked into the store, a really on-the-ball very young staff member asked if we needed a cart and passed it to her. I asked if she wanted me to go with her and walk her back to her car after but she said she'd just use the cart to lean on. I thought afterwards that I should have given her my number and just told her to call me if she ran out of cat food again and I would drop it off, but I couldn't find her. 

So obviously any residual surliness evaporated, because how crummy that she had no one to call, and thinking about how she must have felt standing there, unsure if she could make it across the parking lot, kind of makes me feel like crying. But I got to literally help a little old lady across the street.