You probably don't even want to ask :0

It's been a crazy week in the life of your Catholic librarian.

Because sometimes, you just really need a gigantic cutout cookie...

And I hate being all rushy, rushy, kwim? But I've been all rushy, rushy.  I know that my life is NOT more busy than anybody else's, but when it happens I do mourn for peaceful solitude. In that vein, every time I tried to write this post, I was interrupted (fits the theme ;-)) but whenever I come back to continue I keep remembering that the St. Gianna Beretta Molla novena starts today. When everything seems chaotic, turn to prayer, yes? So if you'd like to join in, I'm starting today!

For the amusement of all of you, I'll relay my busyness troubles of late, and maybe you can relate.  Do detail your own escapades in the comments. :)

All right, so last week every single weeknight had an activity in it. Don't get me wrong, they were fun activities: the ballet, a visit with out of town family, dance rehearsal. All fabulous.

Then there was the other stuff.

The first day above 50 degrees since back in the fall, and guess who had to work on Saturday afternoon?

*weakly raises hand*

I don't normally have to work on the weekends, but we all have to pitch in on a handful of undesirable shifts over the course of the semester, and Saturday was one of mine. Lucky me. And BEFORE that, in the worst instance of scheduling cluelessness so far this year, I had made an appointment to have my hair dyed delicately trimmed. I come by this brown hair honestly. Mostly.

So I need to rushy rushy to and from the hair salon, and back home to scarf down lunch and brew coffee before heading to the library. I arrive for my shift Saturday at 1 pm, feeling particularly martyr-like. For two hours, I peruse Instagram for fashion ideas, chat with Samantha, and online shop for Mother's Day gifts. Then the phone rings.

It was a faculty member, looking for a specific journal volume. Everything went swimmingly until I discovered and relayed that aforementioned journal volume was located in our off-campus storage facility. And by "off-campus" I mean a less than 5 minute drive. We also will ship any requested volume to the library within a business day, free of charge.

Let's just say that the faculty member was very unkind in his reaction. This is a very charitable way of indicating "rude", just to be clear. Apparently, storage facility hatred is a thing. I was very calm and nice to him, which I think made him even madder. He hung up in a huff.

Afterward, I felt a little shaken up, but I thought to myself:

"You know, it must be a terrible cross to bear to be such a giant... CENSORED!!"

Indeed. In the past, I would have been upset about the whole experience for days, because it really bothers me to deal with people who act in such a confrontational manner. But over the years I have come to realize that we cannot control the behavior of other people, only ourselves. And it's pointless to let someone else's behavior disturb my inner tranquility.

Boom! Super professional and courteous, but inwardly conniving, librarian, for the win.

And those same skills are carrying me through this week, in that my students turned in the first draft of their final projects.

Sigh.

Does nobody read the syllabus anymore? Or come to class? That would also help. But even just READING THE SYLLABUS would aid them so, so much. It's only a couple of pages long, really. I promise. SO MANY QUESTIONS COULD BE ANSWERED THEREIN. That is the, you know, *reason* we created it in the first place. So when it gets to be time to turn in final projects, and some students have no idea what an e-portfolio even IS, let along how to use it, it gets a bit frustrating.

Thus, I spoke about how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio in class on Monday. I sent out an email that day, as well as this morning, about how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio. I pointed to the posted help documentation on how to draft and publish their work in the e-portfolio. Yet, some of the e-portfolios are still lacking content.

I get a few email responses:

"Do I need to hit 'publish' for you to be able to see it?"

Why yes. Yes you do.

Is it me? I think it's me. I am officially old enough that I have forgotten how college students think.

That's the verdict: I AM OLD.

Clearly, I need a few ridiculous belly dance gigs to stumble into my life to make me feel young and vibrant again. Where are all of those rickety stages and terrified-looking audience members when you need them?!

Oh, and then there is the overeager author who keeps calling me to request that the library buy his book:

"Have you looked at all of the emails I have sent to you?"

"Yes, thank you. If we're interested, we will order the book."

We're not. But I didn't say that. See, Operation Feelings Being Spared afoot, right there. I'm nice.

"But will you be back in touch with me?"

"No, we have all of the information, thank you."

"But you'll have to call me to order the book. You cannot order it any other way."

"I'm sorry?"

"The book is only sold out of my house. I have the boxes in my basement."

People, I WISH I was making this stuff up. Let's just say it's only Tuesday, and yet it's been a REALLY long week.

And then there's this:

This is after a WEEK of detangling work. #killme

In an effort to shorten my future time in purgatory, I occasionally put fingering weight yarn onto my swift and purposely tangle it into an absolute MOUNTAIN of thousands of tiny little knots, so that I can spend the next 10 days of my life painstakingly getting them all out, thus allowing the yarn to form a proper ball.  I will have to deal with inexplicable yarn fuzz causing tight, deadly knots, and the logistical nightmare of trying to detangle from both ends at the same time. I will have to face the terrifying possibility of CUTTING the yarn, and even worse, REATTACHING IT! And then, in the most painful irony of all: when the yarn is all safe and sound and ready to be knit, I will have to knit, not for myself, but FOR SOMEBODY ELSE. THEY will get to enjoy the super fantastic scarf/shawl/socks/whatever that likely has some of my own blood mixed in with it.

*glares*

That's how my week has gone. How has yours been? :0