Thursday, April 1, 2010

It's Not So Bad Being Me

I knew it wasn't going to be a good day when I was getting ready for work. First, I pulled a muscle in my back somehow. All my working out at the gym and riding my bike did not strengthen my back muscles such that they could withstand simple movement getting out of bed, and one would freak out and cry like a baby. Stupid muscles.

Then, as I was brushing my teeth -- which is more like brushing my mouth, including my tongue, the roof, and down my throat -- I hit a sensitive spot and gagged. Hard. Unlike I've ever gagged before. I didn't just catch myself starting to heave, but my throat made a horrific sound that took my evolution back eons, and something resembling the alarmed call of a pterodactyl escaped my esophagus. First I was startled, wondering if that noise really came from me, and when I realized it had, I started to laugh. Not a giggle. Not a snicker. But a full-on case of hilarity that caused me to spit toothpaste foam all over my mirror. This, of course, made me crack up more, and not wanting to spit more on my mirror, I tried to stifle it, which failed. Not only did I laugh harder, but the harder I tried not to laugh, the harder I laughed. Soon there were tears running down my face, toothpaste dripping down my throat, and the gagging started again until I threw up in my sink. And I was still laughing. Harder. Leelu was kind enough to point out that there are worse scenarios for throwing up than in a fit of laughter, and while I do agree, minty vomit is still pretty gross.

By the time I arrived at work, I was really feeling like a lame-o, and then I had the following conversation with Marina, via IM.

Me: You working tomorrow?

Marina: No way, Jose

Me: LOL, okay then.
Me: Do you need help clipping coupons?

She has a coupon program on Saturday and everyone has been bringing in their unused coupon inserts for her.

Marina: I shouldn't
Marina: I keep the inserts intact whenever possible

Me: Ah.
Me: Okay. Was looking for something different to do. So tired of ordering books.

Marina: I know what you mean
Marina: You could do my cataloging homework

Me: Sure. If you want to fail.

Marina: Hmmm good point.
Marina: If I can't understand it after three lectures on the topic, I doubt someone who hasn't sat through the B.S. could do it with no instruction
Marina: I'll get [the head of Tech Services] to do it
Marina: He'll think its fun

Me: Oh, good idea.

Marina: I don't know why it is so hard for me to grasp

Me: Because it's boring.
Me: How well would you do on a project about the chemical properties of paint and how they contribute to the length of time it takes for them to dry?

Marina: Well...
Marina: Probably worse than cataloging

Me: Uh-huh
Me: Detect a pattern here?

Marina: Yeah you're right
Marina: Even with three lectures, cuz I'd likely sleep through all 3
Marina: I'm just baffled, because 80% of my class seems to love it
Marina: They all want to take more cataloging classes
Marina: I think the conclusion that this leads to is that librarians are cracked

Me: Were you in doubt before the class?
Me: Need I remind you of our consortium meetings?

Marina: I guess I never really put it all together before
Marina: What did I get myself into?

Me: You just got yourself into a field where you are guaranteed to be the coolest, hippest, brightest, and most with-it person around.

Marina: Oh yay!
Marina: A patron just asked me for his horoscope
Marina: I've never been asked that before

Me: A weird lady came in yesterday wanting copies [a coworker] made for her of her PAST horoscopes!
Me: OMG, what good is that?
Me: In hindsight!

Marina: lol
Marina: Maybe she is doing research on the accuracy of horoscopes

Me: Um...
Me: Maybe
Me: But I doubt it.

Marina: Yeah probably not

Me: Have you looked around lately?
Me: Do it. Right now. Take a look at your patrons.

Marina: I'm scared....

Me: You should be.

Which reminds me of a conversation I had not too long ago with one of my favorite people.

Patron: Hey, beautiful.

I looked around to see who the hell he was talking to and there was no one there but me. I was thinking he shouldn't be this drunk this early in the morning, but as he approached the desk he didn't smell like alcohol. Must be the politician in him that makes him so good at lying like that.

Me: Good morning.

Patron: Are you still dating Boyfriend *eyeroll* Extraordinaire? What are you thinking dating someone who lives in California? You need to look for someone else, someone local.

Me: WHAT?! Are you on crack? Have you SEEN the men who live around here? You'd like me to DATE one of THEM?

Patron (laughing): Okay, you have a point, but you should look in areas like Evanston. They're the types of guys for you.

He said this like it's a question of lifting up rocks and peering behind bushes, trying to find men in certain areas worthy of dating. Wait, that might not be a bad idea…

Patron: You're right, though. I'm looking at the patrons behind you, sitting at the computers. There's one guy, I swear he's on the sex offender list. Don't look, but he's on computer #5.

Me: Oh, yeah, I know who you're talking about. He's harmless, just creepy. And no, I wouldn't date him.

Patron: Slim pickings around here.

Me: Tell me about it! Why do you think I moved on to another state?!

So, while my day started off weird, I realize I'm probably not the weirdest person around, and that's nice.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

If you get a chance, get your hands on a copy of The Truth About Catalogers, by Will Manley. Even the LAMEST excuse for a reference librarian think catalogers, though very necessary, are odd.
Oh, and dating patrons--euchhhh.