small dilemma

Most of you know that I have a very good relationship with the girls at the blood bank. We swap dvds/books/comics, and recommend authors or series to each other. I should point out that they also have a similar relationship with other donors (don’t want anyone to think I’m getting preferential treatment).

Yesterday, one of the girls handed me a disc. Not unusual, except that this had 632 eBooks on it. I am in book geek heaven. True, I did have to download Adobe Digital Editions before I could open any of them, but still awesome. Some of the titles I do already have, so thankfully my collection hasn’t just passed 1400 (if I ever get all my books back from my ex in-laws then it will certainly be close). There are some I will not be putting on my hard drive (I’m looking at you Stephenie Meyer/Jodie Picoult/Nicholas Sparks). I should also mention that if I find a book that I really enjoy, there is every chance I will buy a hard copy (just as I would if I fell in love with a library book). 

The only problem is that most of these books come without an ISBN. No publishing details, nothing except title and author. So, I’m not really sure how I’m going to get them all into library thing. I will probably have to search for each title separately, not something I am in a hurry to do. Perhaps in the uni break. So many books, so little time. 

It really is a hard life sometimes ;)

mood music

Ok, so I was trying to do some work while I manned the Children's Desk @ AN this morning, something that was not going well (and I didn't finish). No real surprise there. Plus between trying to get things done, multiple children/people wanting assistance, and running to the other end of the library every time the fucking bell went, my brain managed to throw Ms L into the works. This helped my mood no end, so by the time I got home I was ready for "angry" music.

Music has a big impact on my moods. I only listen to classical music while I'm driving, (anything else and I am prone to road rage/speeding). I play jazz/swing when I have people over for dinner and conversation. When I clean I play techno. When I'm fragile I play Ani diFranco. When I'm pissed off I play music appropriate to 14yr old boys, who hate the world and everyone in it (including themselves). 

So I was all set. I had the Spawn, Dracula 2000, Preaching to the Perverted, and Matrix soundtracks ready to go, mixed with some Nine Inch Nails and a little Rage Against The Machine. Before giving myself over to my music therapy I made the few phonecalls Miss R had asked to to make, and I checked the mail. Not huge, life changing tasks (thought finding someone to mow my lawn is starting to seem like the quest for the grail), but in the end I didn't need the angry music.

Now obvioulsy the gas bill wasn't going to make a huge difference to my mood, but the other piece of mail did. There seems to be a fair amount of gratitude floating around at the moment (which, given the amount of crap that has been circulating over the last six weeks, is a nice change). Last week chocolate roses, this week a card from the blood bank. 

To be fair, the nurses always say thank you each time I donate, and I don't expect a card from every single person who benefits from my donating plamsa/platelets, (38% of Australians have blood type A, so that's a hell of a lot of cards). I don't do it for recognition. I do it because it's the only way I can contribute. I never have any money to give to charity, and my schedule doesn't leave me time to volunteer, so donating for me is the best option. With that said I think I am entitled to feel a little proud that out of the 26 fortnights in a year, I donated in 24 of them. My arms may have more scar tissue that your average heroin junkie, and three quarters of the nurses may hide until I'm actually hooked up to the machine (the scar tissue makes getting the neddle into me rather challenging), but it's worth it.

No matter how big an arsehole people may think I am, or how terrible they may believe I've made their lives, the two hours I spend in that chair every other Thursday makes a huge difference to people all over the country (and their families).

And that feels fucking awesome.

twilight zone

 

Today was one of these weird days. You know, the one where you're cruising along, minding your own business, and the next thing you know you find you've entered the Twilight Zone. 

Shifts out at AM library have always been interesting. I do tend to throw a lot of kids out of that branch. To be fair I only throw out the feral children, and they do get two warnings first. Being school holidays, I was more than ready for that to be the case today. There was one small incident, but otherwise the shift was drama free. This was weird for AM, but not completely unheard of. No, the weird thing was that after spending a considerable amount of time helping a library patron (not unsusal), this person said thank you. Always a rare experience, but it didn't stop there. This person actually left the library and then came back with a token to express her gratitude. I was stunned. Even now, hours after the event I am still stunned. I've left them on the bench so that Miss R can also be stunned.

Tomorrow I am off into the city to see the Doc, and to also get my new laptop. I need to be back for the staff meeting, so I will have to make sure I don't get sidetracked by any comic book stores on the way. A big ask, I know, but I will do my best. 

I had a momentary funk relaspe today. Nothing major, just a twinge. It's hard when someone you find beautiful doesn't see it themselves. It also sucks when you can't tell them, or make them see it, because they don't want to hear it (or at least not hear it from you). But such is life.

Not everyone can have an ego as big as mine.