The Wild Librarian Goes Migratory

Wild Librarian

In honor of National Library Week, I quit my job.

Just kidding.

Sort of.

After fifteen years in the genealogy and local history mines, I’ve moved out of the archives and into the sunlight of general Reference.

Literally—my old department was in the lower level of the central branch, with no windows and only a couple of vents to circulate all the leather dust  spores of history historical ambiance.  THe staff there have dubbed themselves The Mushroom People.

Vitamin D and fresh(er) air aren’t the only changes in my library life.

I’ll be handling InterLibrary Loans and homework help instead of historical architectural surveys and genealogy charts.  I’ll be running up lists of read-alikes instead of indexing newspapers and compiling data.  Writing quick, cheerful review posts instead of  historical snapshots with thorough source citations—lest someone call to complain that I made it sound like one of our city’s founding fathers had two children with his stepdaughter.*  I’ll be swapping recalcitrant microfilm reader/printers for stubborn meeting room projectors.

And instead of in-depth research for a few patrons, I’ll be supplying ready reference answers for, well, all of ’em.

On the whole, it’s  like trading complicated surgery for triage, but with more readers’ advisory.**

It’s also like leaving an established household for the migratory life.

My current schedule has me working at all of our branches throughout the week.  I don’t have a cubicle anymore, I have drawers and shared workstations.

This is in no way a complaint; now that my job isn’t dependent on a single reference collection in a single building, I won’t need all that space.

Unfortunately, this meant that fifteen years of accumulated stuff had to be sorted through and condensed into three small desk drawers.

It took the better part of a week, but I managed to transform this:

Organized Mind--Left

and the six square feet of space behind the camera, into this:***

 

 

Clean Desk 2

I may have left this space less cluttered than when I moved in, and marginally cleaner.  The desk part, I mean—there’s a reason you aren’t seeing the floor.

The Wesson Children’s Art Gallery was taken down, tchotchkes and coffee cups (all full of pens and pencils and pennies) were wrapped in bubble wrap borrowed from acquisitions and put in empty Girl Scout cookie cartons^ to take home, extraneous desk accessories—twenty-three library pencils, seven rulers, a stapler, two pairs of scissors, a box of obsolete computer cards, three nail files, a box of decorative pushpins, and a lot of etcetera—were distributed with great pomp and ceremony, and several reams of papers were examined and dealt with.

I might have teared up a little.  You know, from the dust.

The essence of my librarianship—by which I mean the three folders holding employee contracts, certifications, handbooks, my Short Story Binder, and my cache of individual caffeinated acai-blueberry drink mix packets—is now in a single drawer at the Favored Branch.

I have thirty days—twenty nine, now—to decide if I can handle the vagaries of life as a migratory disseminator of information.

Bring it.

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* Someone did.  Because I did.  Because it’s totally true.

**Not that there’s anything wrong with my old job, or I wouldn’t have enjoyed doing it for so long.  I’m sure I’ll miss it, especially my lovely and snarktastic co-workers.  But . . . it was time to make a change, before I started phoning it in.

***Minus the green document stand.  It’s mine and it’s staying mine.

^This is either a metaphor or a microcosm for my life.

 

 

Random Thursday: Bad Librarians Do It With You

It’s Random National Library Week Thursday!

Have you given your librarian chocolate today?

Would you like a librarian to give chocolate to?

Because I could totally be that librarian.

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The Librarian Song

Joe Uveges wrote a song for the Colorado Librarian’s Association five or six years ago and a friend sent it to me a couple days ago.

Most of the librarians know would have been in the peeing section.

Yeah, that doesn’t sound right, but you know what I mean.

(thanks, Kev—you owe me a keyboard)

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

We do, Actually

Beauty and the Books

(via Watson, who appreciates literacy in a tall man)

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

Stay Informed, My Friends

No, Paul, that’s not me.  At all.  But I’m flattered you asked.

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

Share the Love

In honor of National Library Week

The Poetry Wednesday Ode to Libraries (and Librarians) Contest
challenges you to get your poetry on!

Rules and Regs are here.

As of this post, we already have five names ready for the Hat of Win.

You have until the 20th to post your Libraries (and Librarians) Are All That poem in the comments of  the post I’ve now linked up three times in this one section.

Seriously, it’s easy:

Librarians know
Where All the Secrets Are Kept
Do not tick them off.

See?*

ooooooooooooooooOOOOOoooooooooooooooo

I Wanna Be a Bad Librarian!

Or at least work for the Jonesboro Public Library System, because they’re definitely in the peeing section.

Yeah, still doesn’t sound right.  But you still know what I mean.

Wonder if they’re hiring?

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*My husband suggested that I get someone to translate this into kanji or rōmaji for my next tattoo.  Hmmm . . .