A couple days late, but here is what happened on Friday of last week. I would've updated it instantly on Friday, 'cuz, you know, I like to let people know what's happening in my life AT THE EXACT MOMENT that it happens. Maybe I should get a Twitter. Nope, even I won't sink that low. Anyway, I was busy after work on Friday, so here's your update now.
I got a promotion.
Well, not really. I like to call it a promotion though. It makes me feel special.
What actually happened is I got another responsibility added on to my workload for no extra pay.
There are two different types of pages in the nonfiction section of the library. There are daytime pages and closing pages. I am typically a closer, since, you know, I go to school during the day. Currently, there are two daytime pages. And in two weeks, there will be none. One of them went back to school full-time and wants to finish her degree (in what, I have no idea), so she can't work, and the other one... I don't know what she's up to, but personally, I don't care.
So the one that's not going back to school (she's about 50 years old, I am guessing) is quitting in two weeks. Apparently, she had a "special" duty (as did the other daytime page). That special duty was Recycling the Old Newspapers. I get to take her job. Since both the daytime pages are leaving soon, I will be the only page who knows how to do this sacred duty of Recyling the Old Newspapers.
It makes it feel like I have some kind of special skill, passed down only to those worthy enough to take on its heavy burden.
Recycling the Newspapers.
So what I do is, twice a month, I riffle through the newspapers kept in the Magazine Room (we keep several months' worth of archives of about 15 different newspapers back there) and throw the old ones into a recyling bin. Each newspaper is kept for a different amount of time. For example, Christian Science Monitor is kept for 2 years. Asian American Press is kept for 3 months. Star Trib is kept for 2 months, and Post-Bulletin is kept "until microfilm arrives". So it's a very special job, takes a lot of skill to do this, to check the dates on the newspapers and then recycle the ones that are older than 2 years or 2 months, whatever.
I also get to put out special folders and write the months on them. For example, I'll get to put out the April folders this Wednesday. Very important stuff.
When Donna (that's the old lady who's leaving, a daytime page) was teaching me how to do this, she explained it all very slowly, so I could grasp the true importance of this difficult task. I think I heard "Do you understand?" at least 5 times in the 15 minutes it took for her to train me. Honestly, I could've figured it out by myself. In fact, I already did their jobs for them sometimes when they weren't looking. Sometimes, the daytime shelvers don't do a very good job of Recycling the Old Newspapers.
I'm glad I'm taking their place. I will be the BEST Old Newspaper Recycler the library has EVER had.
Plus, it beats shelving carts of books for hours and hours on end. We'll leave that to the peons who are not WORTHY of recycling the newspapers.
But no, seriously, I'm really psyched about this psuedo-promotion. I have a large ego, and it needs constant stroking. This helps. It makes me feel like my 3 1/2 years of working there are finally paying off, like, I'm finally getting the respect I deserve. Recycling Old Newspapers.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
3/12/09 & 3/15/09
Everyone knows that the library is basically a safehouse for homeless people, at least during the day. Even more so than usual in this economy, as we find jobless and homeless people left and right.
There's this guy that comes into the library all the time, he's got mad scientist-like white hair, glasses, and he's always eating junk food, looking at maps, and then composing lengthy letters/anecdotes/research dissertations. I've always tried to look over his shoulder to see what he's writing, but his handwriting (yeah, he does this all by hand) is so tiny. The one time I managed to see anything of substance, I was heavily confused. He had left to go to the bathroom, so I snuck a peek at his composition.
It was a letter, I think, and it was detailing a memory of a divorce. It was like a memoir, in letter form. There was a map of Michigan and several Reeses Peanut Butter Cup wrappers next to it.
Anyway, this guy is one of our library "regulars", and usually he sits by himself. Lately though, he's gained a small posse of (1) Spanish woman (1) young white man with self-esteem issues and (1) hefty black man who likes junk food almost as much as our friend the mad scientist.
I have recently learned that 2 out of those 3 posse members are homeless.
I was doing my job as a professional creeper, listening in on their conversations.
"You can't stay with Ricky every night, we need to find you a place to stay. ... I know it's tough, you have nowhere else to go, but once the weather gets better, things will hopefully be easier, etc."
I don't know what the black dude does except wink at me, make awkward remarks about my clothing, and eat sunflower seeds (but I do know he is also homeless), and the whit guy with the self-esteem issues only sits with the mad scientist so that the scientist can up his ego. It's like Mad Scientist is Esteemless Man's mentor or something. He's always lecturing him like, "Life is hard, but you gotta push through, yadda da..." stuff like that. Very interesting.
It's the Spanish chick who is the saddest story of all. I can tell that the Mad Scientist really cares about her. He tries to help her so much. He buys her food (junk food, yeah, but, I guess it's the thought that counts). Today she had a 2-liter of Mountain Dew with her. Mad Scientist says to her, "I see you've got a new sodapop. Did you already drink the Coke I gave you?"
She looked a little sheepish and nodded.
"That was a lot of Coke," Mad Scientist said.
The Spanish woman muttered something unintelligible.
"That was 2 liters. Did you really drink all of it?"
"I was thirsty."
Seriously, they dragged on this conversation about the soda for a good 2 more minutes. It was really sad. And then I was so annoyed with the fact that the Mad Scientist is buying these poor people JUNK FOOD. It doesn't make sense either economically or healthfully. Okay, water isn't cheap either, but even knock-off brand soda would be better than buying Mt. Dew for homeless people. It's worse in the long run because 1) It will rack up expensive dentist bills, should the homeless person decide to go to the dentist (so if you bought water, you probably wouldn't need to go to the dentist!) 2) It dehydrates you, and therefore makes you sicker, less energetic (due to the crash). If you lack energy and aren't feeling well and can't get your liquids replenished because the only berverage you have is SODA, well... it's just worse off for you. 3) It makes you FAT.
... I say this as I am drinking a Pepsi.
I have been doing really good with not drinking soda! I've been sick for a week, so I've been drinking water, but DAMN today I just had a wicked craving for sugary drinks. So I grabbed a Pepsi. So sue me. I'm menstruating; I deserve it, along with those Girl Scout cookies I devoured today.
But this is a blog about workstories.
Another person I met today was this really tall black dude with bad teeth looking for issues of the Chicago Tribune. We carry the Chico Trib at work, but for some reason we did not have the Thursday or Friday editions. I looked all over for them, I mean, I really went out of my way to help this poor guy. I felt really bad for him. All he wanted was the Chico classifieds. We have the Rochester and Twin Cities classifieds in a special little folder, but I guess he wanted the Chicago ones for some reason. I told him he should come back another day or check out the RCTC library. He said he couldn't go to RCTC because he didn't have a car, and he didn't have any money for a bus. He didn't even have any money to use the Internet computers and pay ten cents to print off a page of classifieds from the net. I felt like I should've given him a couple dollars so he could go catch a bus or something, but... I didn't. I rationalized it by saying "it's not my job to give people money so that they can potentially catch a bus". It's my job to help people find newspapers, sure, and I did everything I could. I did more than I usually do, which is saying something, because I'm kind of a really bad employee. But I did what I could. So I don't feel too many regrets.
I do feel bad about all these less well-off people though. It really make me grateful to have a job, a future, a house, you know?
So count your blessings, kids.
NEWS: No creepers today. Unless you count the Spanish woman, because apparently she just stares at you as you walk by (which is true, but I don't really mind because I know she has no malice in mind; it's that chubby black guy with the sunflower seeds that worries me...)
I'm having an incredibly tough time trying to find somebody to take my shift on Wednesday. It's frustrating. EVERYBODY is busy for Spring Break (which varies across our staff from now until the 2nd week in April, basically). And one of our employees is in Texas for a work camp, I'm going to Florida, one girl is in a play and can only work evenings and not afternoons, nobody works on Saturdays, and two of our girls can't stay past 7:00. It's so ridiculous. We need more people to work, but we can't afford it. We're so backed up in the mag room. It's stupid. And now we're being monitored even more closely... ugh. I will be happy - and yet sad - when I leave for college.
There's this guy that comes into the library all the time, he's got mad scientist-like white hair, glasses, and he's always eating junk food, looking at maps, and then composing lengthy letters/anecdotes/research dissertations. I've always tried to look over his shoulder to see what he's writing, but his handwriting (yeah, he does this all by hand) is so tiny. The one time I managed to see anything of substance, I was heavily confused. He had left to go to the bathroom, so I snuck a peek at his composition.
It was a letter, I think, and it was detailing a memory of a divorce. It was like a memoir, in letter form. There was a map of Michigan and several Reeses Peanut Butter Cup wrappers next to it.
Anyway, this guy is one of our library "regulars", and usually he sits by himself. Lately though, he's gained a small posse of (1) Spanish woman (1) young white man with self-esteem issues and (1) hefty black man who likes junk food almost as much as our friend the mad scientist.
I have recently learned that 2 out of those 3 posse members are homeless.
I was doing my job as a professional creeper, listening in on their conversations.
"You can't stay with Ricky every night, we need to find you a place to stay. ... I know it's tough, you have nowhere else to go, but once the weather gets better, things will hopefully be easier, etc."
I don't know what the black dude does except wink at me, make awkward remarks about my clothing, and eat sunflower seeds (but I do know he is also homeless), and the whit guy with the self-esteem issues only sits with the mad scientist so that the scientist can up his ego. It's like Mad Scientist is Esteemless Man's mentor or something. He's always lecturing him like, "Life is hard, but you gotta push through, yadda da..." stuff like that. Very interesting.
It's the Spanish chick who is the saddest story of all. I can tell that the Mad Scientist really cares about her. He tries to help her so much. He buys her food (junk food, yeah, but, I guess it's the thought that counts). Today she had a 2-liter of Mountain Dew with her. Mad Scientist says to her, "I see you've got a new sodapop. Did you already drink the Coke I gave you?"
She looked a little sheepish and nodded.
"That was a lot of Coke," Mad Scientist said.
The Spanish woman muttered something unintelligible.
"That was 2 liters. Did you really drink all of it?"
"I was thirsty."
Seriously, they dragged on this conversation about the soda for a good 2 more minutes. It was really sad. And then I was so annoyed with the fact that the Mad Scientist is buying these poor people JUNK FOOD. It doesn't make sense either economically or healthfully. Okay, water isn't cheap either, but even knock-off brand soda would be better than buying Mt. Dew for homeless people. It's worse in the long run because 1) It will rack up expensive dentist bills, should the homeless person decide to go to the dentist (so if you bought water, you probably wouldn't need to go to the dentist!) 2) It dehydrates you, and therefore makes you sicker, less energetic (due to the crash). If you lack energy and aren't feeling well and can't get your liquids replenished because the only berverage you have is SODA, well... it's just worse off for you. 3) It makes you FAT.
... I say this as I am drinking a Pepsi.
I have been doing really good with not drinking soda! I've been sick for a week, so I've been drinking water, but DAMN today I just had a wicked craving for sugary drinks. So I grabbed a Pepsi. So sue me. I'm menstruating; I deserve it, along with those Girl Scout cookies I devoured today.
But this is a blog about workstories.
Another person I met today was this really tall black dude with bad teeth looking for issues of the Chicago Tribune. We carry the Chico Trib at work, but for some reason we did not have the Thursday or Friday editions. I looked all over for them, I mean, I really went out of my way to help this poor guy. I felt really bad for him. All he wanted was the Chico classifieds. We have the Rochester and Twin Cities classifieds in a special little folder, but I guess he wanted the Chicago ones for some reason. I told him he should come back another day or check out the RCTC library. He said he couldn't go to RCTC because he didn't have a car, and he didn't have any money for a bus. He didn't even have any money to use the Internet computers and pay ten cents to print off a page of classifieds from the net. I felt like I should've given him a couple dollars so he could go catch a bus or something, but... I didn't. I rationalized it by saying "it's not my job to give people money so that they can potentially catch a bus". It's my job to help people find newspapers, sure, and I did everything I could. I did more than I usually do, which is saying something, because I'm kind of a really bad employee. But I did what I could. So I don't feel too many regrets.
I do feel bad about all these less well-off people though. It really make me grateful to have a job, a future, a house, you know?
So count your blessings, kids.
NEWS: No creepers today. Unless you count the Spanish woman, because apparently she just stares at you as you walk by (which is true, but I don't really mind because I know she has no malice in mind; it's that chubby black guy with the sunflower seeds that worries me...)
I'm having an incredibly tough time trying to find somebody to take my shift on Wednesday. It's frustrating. EVERYBODY is busy for Spring Break (which varies across our staff from now until the 2nd week in April, basically). And one of our employees is in Texas for a work camp, I'm going to Florida, one girl is in a play and can only work evenings and not afternoons, nobody works on Saturdays, and two of our girls can't stay past 7:00. It's so ridiculous. We need more people to work, but we can't afford it. We're so backed up in the mag room. It's stupid. And now we're being monitored even more closely... ugh. I will be happy - and yet sad - when I leave for college.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Work Stories 3/9/09 - 3/11/09
Oh, the things you see at the library:
- A man in a hooded sweatshirt staring out the window, seductively eating peanut butter straight from the jar
- An elderly gentlemen getting his jollies by looking at women's fashion magazines (W, to be specific)
- Asian people learning to speak English
- Man-woman checking her e-mail
- A bespectacled 30-something chatting it up with someone on "manhunt.com"
- A Vietnamese woman wearing headphones singing along to Vietnamese music on Youtube, not realizing that other people can hear her
- A chubby man who wears T-shirts with "witty" expressions reading Dilbert comics while a nearby college student on a laptop gives him worried glances
- A dark-bearded hobo who usually sits in a specific chair next to the skyway windows sitting in a different chair and not eyeballing me creepily as I walk in to work - I almost didn't notice him!
- Kids pestering everybody, including employees, to support their fundraiser
- The creepy Asian man popping out from behind bookcases shouting, "Boo!"
- Karissa
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