First Week Back at Work

 My first week at work was weird, as it always is, not really in a bad way. At some point in the summer I wake up in a panic thinking I've just forgotten to go in for four weeks.

The first couple of weeks there are no classes because we need time to get all the class barcodes from the office and get them organized, and teachers need to pick a library slot. Given the way their days are chopped up by homeroom, switching classes, gym class, blended learning and prep, it's a miracle that the schedule somehow comes together. 

It's always a little strange being in the library for hours with no students coming in. In one library we put all the books from displays up on high shelves for the summer to keep them safe, so the first day is a lot of lifting and sorting and re-making displays. In another library the main librarian retired last year, and left a bunch of bins of books which the new librarian and I were uncertain about, so I did a bunch of scanning and sorting. 

There's something Zen and calming about placing all the books neatly, with books from the same series all together, and then there's something equally agreeable about the chaos left after six classes come rampaging through and all that's left is an upside-down copy of Dog Man: Mothering Heights and a few tattered Diary of a Wimpy Kids.

Once all of that was done, I started looking around at other places I could do displays. At one school there is a shelf of student-made robots. I looked up robot books in the catalogue. One was called amour chez les robots, and it was late afternoon and I hadn't talked to another person for hours and I was getting wingy so I texted our friends WhatsApp that I was afraid my library was harbouring robot porn.

They were there for me, like they always are.

Then I sent them pictures of the robots.

Then I told myself "do not put the robots in sexual positions. Do NOT put the robots in sexual positions."

Then of course...

I put the robots in sexual positions.

I put the robots back to normal before ending up with one of the weirdest "how I got fired" stories ever.

I couldn't find the amour chez les robots book, so Collette looked it up.

Tony shut down our juvenile speculation and held up the feminist end of things.

I made a pretty book display and called it a day, which was probably best for everyone. 

It was my parents' birthdays (three days apart) on the weekend. Since our anniversary falls right between their birthdays, you'd think we would habitually remember our anniversary. But we do not. In fact, I have joked about us never remembering our anniversaries, had someone look a bit pained, and said "it's September 21st today, isn't it?" (she said "I wasn't going to say anything!")

I always enjoy this Facebook memory.

And this one. When we were getting stuff ready for our wedding, my Mom asked what we wanted to give for favours. She said "you should think of something that makes them think of you", and I said "like nuts?" She thought I was joking, but then her older German friend said that she thought it was hilarious, so I painted little plant pots and put tealights in them, then attached a little bag of pistachios and the tag said "nuts to you from Matt and Allison".

My sister and her husband came for the weekend. We talked and laughed and went out for dinner and the weather was beautiful - we sat in the backyard all day Sunday. It was perfect.