I’m sitting in what may be my last actual library course in my career in library school. They’re talking about collection development, and I’ve spent most of the class either checking my email or doing the reading for this class – reading that we will never discuss, reading that I will never write anything about (save this blog post), reading that really has little-to-no relevance to the work I anticipate doing. This semester has been intensely frustrating because of classes like this.

I have so much work to do, and the hours that I spend in this class feel like wasted time, time when I should be doing other work – but I know if I didn’t have to be here, I would either be sleeping or in the office working on OTHER things I desperately need to be doing. Over night the semester got all hot and heavy, and I’m up to my eyes in work – both work-work and homework and research and writing and reading.

The lecturer is using a wireless lapel mic, but instead of clipping the little mic to her shirt, she is holding it up to her mouth, and for some reason that’s annoying me.

I think the biggest thing that’s come down the pipes this week has been a serious, serious consideration of the PhD program – which is somewhat ironic, given the discontent discussed above. I expressed a lot of this to my adviser – well, not the part about the mic – and she talked me around and through most of my concerns. I’m excited, terrified, etc. I’m writing a thesis in the spring with the intention of starting PhD work in the fall – in the interim I just have to do the application and cross my fingers and continue to woo faculty members who seem to like me an awful lot already.

I was wide awake at 5:30 this morning and couldn’t get back to sleep, and I found myself walking downtown for breakfast at 7 while the sun was coming up over the buildings and the park and the trees full of color. The sky was gray with encroaching pink, and a man nodded at me and said “good morning” as I crossed Main Street and the sun burned red over the train tracks behind the old depot.

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