This week I have begun to think that the life of the librarian is not for the faint of heart. Yeah this is totally true for these library horror stories.* I am being dramatic, of course, which I am wont to do.
Anyway, this week I simultaneously had my financial aid substantially reduced to the point where I may or may not have to move to the Y in like Yonkers or Jersey City Heights in a week and perhaps beg for work at a local bodega or several local bodegas. In the midst of this I received a medium-substantial reimbursement scholarship from a local library organization of which I am a member. I learned about some great new fellowships and got denied a spot as a collection development intern at a local college library (I really wanted that). I had someone in an administrative position in my program, and with whom I thought I had a good relationship be unnecessarily snippy while learning that I may still have a shot at more funding that I forgot to apply for last spring (I know).
On a personal front I broke up (?) with a man who is pretty good, for big girl reasons (if not in a big girl way), but had him totally respect it and still come through afterwards with a little emotional support when the great financial aid crisis of 2013 hit on Wednesday. I may or may not be able to pay my rent and buy my monthly MTA pass in a week when the time comes. I finally caught the mouse (or one of them anyway) that had climbed into my drawers and ate my vitamin C drops and has been leaving tiny poop pellets, erywhere for the past six months. We locked eyes before I lowered the boom (I did not lower the boom. I was too wimpy. Worse I shoved him/her into an empty Smuckers hot fudge jar and threw said jar into the garbage on the corner. I am profoundly guilty. But mousey- mouse just could not stay here. I explained this before and during the trek to the corner. I am so sorry for that Smuckers jar. Oh my goodness. And oh there’s so much more.
All of this junk in literally 5½ days.
This week has all been gross and simultaneously not, leaving me to have to find new ways to manage the fall out of what’s shaping up to be a much less manic relationship with the universe. And by that I mean either hopelessly, soul-crushingly shitty or ebulliently, gleefully amazing. So this may be good. For some reason I am erring on the side of good…
Also I am trying to figure out Photoshop so I can watermark my photos for posting. Bear with me.
*Ok maybe horror stories is extreme, but I’ll be honest anything involving poop anywhere spells horror to me!