My eyes are bleeding out words

Posted: February 5, 2012 in Uncategorized

Since arriving here in good ol’ Massachusetts, I have had some time on my hands after work. For the first two weeks, I was consumed with catching up on all things work-related which meant, the majority of my evenings were spent reading work-related emails, blogs, listservs, group meetings and minutes, and documents. My brain spilled out library words and lingoes all over the futon. Not that I minded because I hate to feel like I am behind on something before I even really get started. I think starting a new job is like picking up a book and beginning your reading adventure smack dab in the middle. You are well aware that characters already know one another and have been interacting with each other for many chapters now. You also understand that events have occurred with various outcomes and some people were happy about them and some were not. You as the new reader, the new pair of eyes, the new voice in the cacophany of the workplace have no idea really where you fit in or which of the characters liked or disliked the things that happened in the pages previous to your arrival. So you begin by trying in desperation to read the pages that came before while also trying to pay attention to the scene around you as you know that the present directly affects the paragraphs that will ultimately come in the future. Those chapters you hope you will be a significant part of. The problem herein lies with the skimming of pages before you came. You cannot possibly get it all done before meetings happen or your opinion is asked about something important so you must go with your instincts, training, god-like insight, whatever and hope for the best. You also hope that whatever line in the sand you find yourself aside of is the right one.  Luckily, as the new person, you can feign ignorance for about a year before people take that right away from you.

So this has been my life. I want to do a good job at work but I feel a little lost sometimes. There are dynamics at play, friendships and bonds, past grudges and all that fun stuff that make up a work environment, none of which I know hence why I spent so much time “catching up.” Now that I feel somewhat sure of my footing, I have started going to the Wellesley Public Library every Sunday to get my fiction-groove on. A girl can’t spend her whole life reading why information literacy is important. I must put my literacy into play with a good book that has absolutely nothing to do with my job. The first time I entered the library, I almost died. This is a beautiful library, not the normal public libraries I have visited back in Indiana. This public library has money and people who like to give their money to the library and it shows. This is good for me because they have a fantastic collection plus a consortium so if there is something I want but this branch does not, I ask the “Minutemen” to go get it for me. I also admit that I go to the library to read back issues of “People” magazine. Imagine my horror when I went to our periodicals to get a copy to read during the two-hour desk shift and found it not there!  OMG. What the hell was I supposed to stare at? Anyone who has ever worked a public service desk knows that reading anything substantial is not going to happen. There are constant interruptions and if you are like me, I do not enjoy reading the same sentence 67 times in ten minutes. So things like “People” magazine are perfect because I don’t have to retain anything my eyes see. I simply stare at pretty people doing pretty things and then quickly let it fall out of my head. I don’t have to think about anything nor decipher any hidden meanings. I do not have to apply what I have read in any sort of worldly context. I just am. And it’s nice. But without “People” I am not whole. As it was such a part of my routine, I miss it so when I go to the public library to get new books, I pop  into the periodical room and read one back issue. Just for fun.  And I promptly forget every word by the time I put it back on the shelf. I’m 36, I only have so much room left for permanent storage anyway.

Upon investigation as to why “People” is not part of our collection at WC, I was told that there is a certain type of student being fostered and this type of magazine does not support that vision. Well, boo. I mean, isn’t popular culture important? If for any other reason then to relax the brain? That’s why I read it in the first place. I know I’m not going to gain some kick-ass insight that is going to lead me to cure cancer by reading why Katy Perry is leaving her douche of a husband Russell Brand but it serves a useful purpose nonetheless. Even the most serious student needs some entertainment-related fodder. It’s like,necessary. Until then, I have Barbie, who has graciously sent me some of her old issues of US Weekly.  Yes, now I can finally read up on Ms. Perry and her troubles. (That’s called “research.”)

In the world outside of books (is that such a thing???), C-Bob hasn’t complained for almost two weeks! At least, he hasn’t complained to me  directly. My only interaction with him was yesterday when I went downstairs to do the laundry. He was in the kitchen, yes you guessed it, making beans, and asked, “Was it you who was doing their laundry late last night?” I sternly replied, “No. I”m doing it now” and continued on my way. I love how all of a sudden anything crappy or awful that happens on this premises is somehow directly related to my being here. This reminds me of my childhood when it felt like everything was always my fault even if I wasn’t anywhere near the event in question. To some people, that is a minor detail, irrelevant if you will. I guess in life, someone has to be Larry, the downstairs neighbor who is always mucking stuff up. I guess C-Bob has cast me in that role.

If only my landlord was a funny as Mrs. Roper.

Tomorrow I look into yet another weekend ending. I didn’t do a whole lot but I didn’t lay around mainlining in misery either. So I guess that’s something. Next weekend will be better for sure. Salem is hosting their annual Ice Sculpture and Chocolate Festival. And you guessed it, I’m going as there is no way I am missing an entire festival dedicated to chocolate. Good god, I can only imagine. Thankfully there is a lot of walking in Salem as I will no doubt need to burn off my chocolate goodies before jumping into the car and driving back to Wellesley.

I’m also having lunch this week with a fabulous Spanish professor who wants to take me out for my “welcome to Wellesley.” Yay! And of course, more prep for my upcoming FIRST in-class instruction on Valentine’s Day. As per usual, I did buy heart-shaped suckers to give to the class. When in doubt, bribe them with sweets.

Until next time, if it walks like a duck but it isn’t a duck, then I don’t know what the hell to tell you.

  1. Barbie says:

    I just love you.

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