Due to circumstances beyond my control, I have been off on sick leave since the beginning of December. I will not be returning to work any time soon. I have not begun my new position. So much for all my agonizing. I am missing work, colleagues, and a sense of purpose/utility. I think needing to be needed is another prerequisite for happiness as a public librarian.
OK, I know this is weird to read/say in a blog post. My health problems are serious and severe, grim even. No, I do not need help with further research. There are no miracles just around the corner. Actually, the miracle is that the Offspring arrived with Christmas. She is taking a leave of absence for the semester to stay and be part of my caregiving team. It is wonderful having her here with us. Though I am suffering from some maternal guilt. This was to be her last semester, followed by graduation. So I make threats daily--she MUST graduate asap! She is taking two online classes. I try to only ask twice a day if her schoolwork is done. We are both revisiting shades of her high school career.
Her help lifts quite a burden off the shoulders of the other branch librarian who lives here. He's been using some Family Medical Leave to take time off for doctors' appointments, etc. Guess what? He also finds it impossible to keep up with his job in under forty hours a week. Makes me feel somewhat vindicated.
I have had a couple of people ask me what I am doing all day. In a nutshell: I get up, wash, get dressed, read the L.A. Times, breakfast, read email/FaceBook, try to keep the paperwork mountain under control (three plus hours today--truly), talk to family and friends.
We have an incredible series of visits and visitors scheduled--now through March. It is very complicated. We've had to set boundaries. People cannot stay at our apartment--too small and overcrowded already. Most visits can last no longer than a half hour to an hour. I get over-tired and loopy past that. The brain and body...
Of course, there is a bit of romance reading going on, very slowly. I just don't have the concentration! Who is this person? Wearing a hat?
Oh, re: post title. I am eating all and every form of chocolate I come across for the rest of my life. Every last chocolate doughnut. Let me mention the lastest Dove ice cream flavor (title). It's is almost too chocolatey for me!
Happy Valentine's Day to all. I'm about to float away on a sea of chocolate. Hope you valentine was as good to you as mine was to me!
Showing posts with label branchlife. Show all posts
Showing posts with label branchlife. Show all posts
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, December 05, 2008
Once upon a time
Today, I told my staff. I did not cry. It is not good-bye quite yet.
Three months ago, I finally decided enough was enough. I was no longer able to function as an effective branch librarian half-time, 20 hours a week. I kept thinking it was 40 pounds of mud in a twenty pound sack. The overflow was painful to me. I felt it was unfair to me, to my staff, to my public (mini curtsey stage center). I was always and evermore behind, rushed, slightly off, speed limping across the branch with my cane. Quick, over to new books, over to reference, over to fairy tales.
If it has escaped anyone, being a branch librarian is very physical. It is very difficult to do without picking up or pushing around 40 pounds at a time. I mean, really, reshelve reference two books at a time? Replace old editions with new editions. Then find the previous edition that has been circulating for the last year, and swap them all out, from their top and bottom shelf locations. A long time ago, I noticed how the heaviest books always find the least convenient locations.
(No, no, no time. Slog through that book truck filled with ce. nice, shiny, bestsellers, only read once. However, some are 2003, 2004, 2005. Too old to add to our overflowing shelves! Except wait, might need to check some ISBNs in the database. But, no, no time. The November book order! Overdue!)
I kept thinking I could make it work. This job, these three years, is the best and happiest I've had in my give-or-take twenty-two years in library land. So sweet, so pretty, so nice in every way, shape and form. I love this job, this place, these people.
But finally, I soul searched enough. Three months ago, I told my boss, I cannot do this, physically. You need a 40-hour a week librarian. (I should mention that scheduling 16 to 20 hours a week of substitutes was quite a management feat, all by itself.) It was intensely painful to say I could not do something. I was severely overtired, attending physical therapy twice a week, with doctor appointments filling up many of my half days "off." I think "I can do it" is the mantra branch librarians live by. But I got a doctor's note, and said I can't do it.
The administration has created a job for me at headquarters. What do you do with a halftime librarian who can't cart around books, or walk or stand very long? It took them two months to figure it out. I won't be working in a library. SOB. Our headquarters is in a warehouse converted to office space, in the middle of a light industrial park, with lots of other county departments. It's not pretty. There are nice people. Wouldn't you know my best friend in the system is being transferred from HQ to a branch the same time I'm moving? Happy new years everyone.
Three months ago, I finally decided enough was enough. I was no longer able to function as an effective branch librarian half-time, 20 hours a week. I kept thinking it was 40 pounds of mud in a twenty pound sack. The overflow was painful to me. I felt it was unfair to me, to my staff, to my public (mini curtsey stage center). I was always and evermore behind, rushed, slightly off, speed limping across the branch with my cane. Quick, over to new books, over to reference, over to fairy tales.
If it has escaped anyone, being a branch librarian is very physical. It is very difficult to do without picking up or pushing around 40 pounds at a time. I mean, really, reshelve reference two books at a time? Replace old editions with new editions. Then find the previous edition that has been circulating for the last year, and swap them all out, from their top and bottom shelf locations. A long time ago, I noticed how the heaviest books always find the least convenient locations.
(No, no, no time. Slog through that book truck filled with ce. nice, shiny, bestsellers, only read once. However, some are 2003, 2004, 2005. Too old to add to our overflowing shelves! Except wait, might need to check some ISBNs in the database. But, no, no time. The November book order! Overdue!)
I kept thinking I could make it work. This job, these three years, is the best and happiest I've had in my give-or-take twenty-two years in library land. So sweet, so pretty, so nice in every way, shape and form. I love this job, this place, these people.
But finally, I soul searched enough. Three months ago, I told my boss, I cannot do this, physically. You need a 40-hour a week librarian. (I should mention that scheduling 16 to 20 hours a week of substitutes was quite a management feat, all by itself.) It was intensely painful to say I could not do something. I was severely overtired, attending physical therapy twice a week, with doctor appointments filling up many of my half days "off." I think "I can do it" is the mantra branch librarians live by. But I got a doctor's note, and said I can't do it.
The administration has created a job for me at headquarters. What do you do with a halftime librarian who can't cart around books, or walk or stand very long? It took them two months to figure it out. I won't be working in a library. SOB. Our headquarters is in a warehouse converted to office space, in the middle of a light industrial park, with lots of other county departments. It's not pretty. There are nice people. Wouldn't you know my best friend in the system is being transferred from HQ to a branch the same time I'm moving? Happy new years everyone.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
