Saturday, September 02, 2006

Energize

After a gloriously relaxing vacation, one should feel refreshed and rejuvenated to go back to work, yes? That's how it's supposed to go?

I'm feeling tired, people. I just got back and I am tired. Maybe this is because I was meant to be independently wealthy, luncheoning with those Ladies Who Lunch and taking Creative Macrame classes to pass the time. Or maybe it's because the amount of work I had waiting for me on my desk and email inbox when I returned was wicked retahded. It's the beginning of the school year, where the hordes come swarming through the door once again, all making a beeline for the reference desk, where I sit and wait for them with a horrified, glassy-eyed look on my face. Ha ha. Just kidding. Sort of.

So, in this time of fair-to-middling energy that needs to be pumped up to high-energy, I start to think about the things about my job that would appeal to the ten year old in me, who always had energy. When I was ten, I would fight the idea of going to bed. Now? I am having a love affair with my bed. I am like Ronnie Cammererie from Moonstruck, talking to myself as Loretta. That's right, I'm Nick Cage AND Cher, all in one, having a grand old conversation with myself about my bed. "Everything seems like nothing to me now, 'cause I want you in my bed." These are the things I say to myself. This morning, as Nordic Boy heroically tried to get me to wake up, he resorted to doing his best Barbra imitation by crooning that Yentl song into my ear. "Sweetie can you hear me?" Damn him for always making me laugh when I want to sit in my Grumpster Dumpster.

So when I was ten, I loved stickers. (Follow me on this people, I know I am reaching, but I need to do this right now). My favorite store was Happyland (was it a chain? does anyone out there remember Happyland?) in the mall. It was a whole store of stickers. Rolls and rolls of stickers. I had a little sticker book and I would go to Happyland and fill up my book with crap. Contrary to most little girls of the 70s and 80s, unicorns and rainbows were not my milieu. I was more a hearts and stars and geometric shapes kind of girl. So now, as a librarian, I often get to work with stickers. I stick the spines of every new book in my collection with a sticker. The ten-year-old in me should be ecstatic that I have found a profession in which I am being paid to work with stickers for a few minutes each week. I mean, what's next? Building shelving out of legos? Making displays using Fashion Plates?

Another thing that I used to think was awesome as a ten year old was People Who Were Allowed to Push Buttons. As a child, I had no button-pushing power at all. Children are more often told "don't press that!" when around buttons, and the highlight of my life was getting in an elevator and being told I could press the appropriate button. Children have few button-pressing rights, or at least they did when I was growing up. So, when I would go to the grocery store and watch the cashier press the "total" button after scanning in our groceries, I was rabidly jealous. Look at that cash register, I would think to myself, all those BUTTONS. My fingers would ITCH to push them. And now, here I am, with an entire keyboard ALL TO MYSELF all day long. Pushing buttons. Right now. Look at that. Doing it now. And there again. And now. And again. The inner ten year old is in paroxysms of joy.

Now if only I could find a way to incorporate sucking down pixie sticks, getting my brother in trouble, and singing the "hanker for a hunk of cheese" song into my work day, it would be ideal working conditions. But for now, I'll take the buttons and stickers.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Hey, it's time for Timer! What the hell WAS Timer, exactly? Did he normally wear that 10 gallon hat?

When I need to find some sort of silent joy at my library post, I make a display of all the craziest books I can find, the ones that are only related in that they are freaking weird. Wicca doesn't count, because that's too easy. Then I monitor who takes them out. It's a win win, because these weird obscure whacked out titles finally get some circ, and I feel I get some insight into the people taking them. Now, if you are stuck the ref room, I realize you don't get the circ satisfaction. But as a close second you could see how many patrons have totally f-ed up MySpace accounts. I was astonished at the number of our seemingly normal patrons who are on MySpace with no shirts.

Librarian Girl said...

Timer always looked like he was sort of MADE out of cheese. So he was hankering for a hunk of himself. Or at least that's what I thought as a kid.

Anonymous said...

I hear you LG. Basically, being on vacation just made me want to be on vacation ALL THE TIME!

And I don't even have stickers at my job. But I do have lots of buttons and dangerous chemicals! (The latter of which should probably kept AWAY from my inner ten year old...)

Anonymous said...

I hanker for a hunk-uh... a ten gallon chunk-uh... I hanker for a hunk-uh cheese!

And for the record, I don't think there's ever been a vacation in my life that made me want to do anything other than take another one. So BG and LG... maybe we should figure out some way to make a living at taking vacations!