I must confess, I have a love hate relationship with our library. Seriously, maybe even a hate hate relationship with it. But I have to include love, because I LOVE books. So it's a building full of the things I most love in this world, but have serious angst when entering it.
This story starts a long way back, in way way back time. It seemed to me that the people of this place had no interest in sharing their books. They dissappointed me when I moved to town and they didn't have every Pulitzer winning book. My snobbery knew no bounds. Seriously, a friend of mine and I were working our way through the list in my previous town.. Ended that endeavor.
It seemed that they didn't get the momentous occasion of my daughter being old enough for a library card. Like it was just boring old business. No matter, I have more energy for enthusiam than a theme park.
I always thought myself very generous in accruing late fees to add to their coffers. They didn't see it that way. I didn't much like them; they didn't much like me.
Until recently, they went and hired on a person who is friendly and patient. She knows my children by name and commpliments my book basket every time I go. She even reads the books and shares her favorite titles with me. She smiles. She sees me in the grocery store and speaks to me. So my hate/ hate problem is simply that. My problem. Because right now, I have a great book, a hot cup of tea, two children napping, and don't judge me, chili cheese fritos. Crazy combo, but I'm so happy.
So library people that don't like me much, I forgive you. I'll forgive you even more if this book turns out to be as good as it seems. I may even pay you a visit again real soon. You even sent my friend that broke her leg flowers... I do realize I'm the mean one. Check out my last post about punching someone in the throat... I may be the problem in this relationship...