Huh?

Yes, yes, I am a superstar superhero super-terrific librarian. I actually got one of my city's disaffected youth to proclaim "librarians must be the smartest people in the world!" the other day. And I am 60% sure they weren't being sarcastic. I like taking in information, and sharing it, and thinking on it. You other superstar librarians out there know what I'm talking about. I've got some smarts. I know this. Excuse me while I pick up these brains that keep spilling out onto the floor.

Not only do I have some smarts, I am also a reflective person. I ponder. I muse. I do lots of mulling over. About anything. About everything. What is the nature of life? Why is the universe designed so? What really matters? And why did Rory Gilmore never work it out with Jess? I liked Jess.

Except, you know what? Sometimes, when I think too much, something in my 'licious brainage can rebel. It's like, it just can't take any more and has to shut completely down. And I mean completely. And that's what's happening with me this week. I was in the middle of reading a Turgenev novel, and it was all of a sudden "blah blah blahsky." So I put that down earlier this week and started in on Raisin Rodriguez and the Big-Time Smooch. Couldn't concentrate on that either. A few days ago Nordic Boy walked in to the living room to find me standing in front of the fireplace, facing outward into the room. "What are you doing?" he said. "Huh? I don't know." He finds this funny. "You were staring off like Puddy on Seinfeld." Unfortunately, that wasn't the only time this happened. It's happened a few times, enough for him to coin the phrase "Puddy-ing out." As in, "hey Librarian Girl, you're Puddy-ing out again." As a superstar super-pondering librarian, this chaps my ass.

I think what's happening is that I have been working too much. My schedule just got out of control and I find myself without a day off for more than my brain can handle. This causes me to want to do nothing but puddy out, or watch tv, or sleep. Not that any of these are things I wouldn't do anyway, it's the doing them in excess that I mind.

So, bear with me this week, people. If anything I post in the next week seems kind of vacant, just cut me some slack. My two week stint is almost over. And on that note, I leave you with this:

I got home from work last night at 8:30 pm as Nordic Boy was preparing dinner. I peak into a grocery bag that is full of assorted fruit...yum. Apples, pears, bananas. "Hey," I say, "what are those orange things?" Nordic Boy looks at me with his Russell Crowe brow, all wrinkled up. "Librarian Girl, they're oranges."

Me: "Oh. Right." Giggle giggle from the both of us. Giggles turn into gales of laughing. "Young lady, you need to go sit the hell down and relax!" And I am summarily marched over to the couch.

Those orange things. Yes, I remember now. They're called oranges. Thanks, Nordic Boy.

Kiss the rings, I'm out.
Librarian Girl