Later that same day...
Miss Information has a cold and she's clearly not at her best so when a patron asked her for books on "making wheels" she took it at face value. If she ever needed a wheel herself she figures she would go buy one at one of those giant hardware stores that depress her so much. She's never had the slightest urge to make a wheel. Of course she doesn't want to make soap or scrapbooks or beef vindaloo either but she can find books for those that do. She doesn't judge. Well, she does think that making soap is sort of pointless when there are thousands of kinds in the drugstore and that those "scrapbooking" people are clearly goofy. She is, however, completely in favour of people making beef vindaloo. Ummmmmmmm....spicy.
Anyway, she confirmed what the gentleman wanted, making the universal hand gesture for "wheel", (you know, where you make fists and rotate them around each other?) and proceded to make a futile search for wheel-making books.
There were books on the physics of wheels, science experiments involving wheels, and the history of wheels but not a single book on making your own wheel. When she reported these findings to the patron he expressed surprise that all the wheel books were in the science section and not where he had been expecting them to be -- in the law section.
Oh. Making
wills.
Apparently the universal "wheelie" gesture Miss Information had performed isn't nearly as well-known as she had supposed.
Miss Information has a bad day
Miss Information has a cold. Her nose is red and flaky. It’s not an attractive look. She periodically has violent coughing fits. If she doesn’t get to take a nap soon she’s going to collapse weeping over her keyboard. Her usual stylish wardrobe has been replaced by “sick girl wear” (old jeans, shirt covered with cat hair, zebra print canvas sneakers that match nothing). Her normally well-behaved, luxurious hair has turned against her conditioner and now resembles some kind of malfunctioning haystack. It isn’t pretty.
So obviously this is the day the head of the entire library system drops by for her triennial visit. Perfect.
Miss Information is annoyed at the circ desk
Once a week, Miss Information gets to spend a frustrating and depressing afternoon at the circulation desk. She doesn't know where anything is and she can't remember any of the commands so she spends most of the time trying not to run screaming back to Reference. (No one would notice the screaming, by the way.)
While she was working at circ yesterday, a man wearing a big furry scarf approached the desk. The scarf should have been a clue that things were not quite right, as the day was positively balmy for November. He wanted to use the photocopier but didn't have the right kind of library card. Miss Information whipped him up a new photocopier-friendly card, pleased that she knew exactly how to do that.
When she handed him his new library card, the man practically burst into tears. It seems he really really liked his old card. He didn't want a new card. He was heartbroken at losing his old friend.
Miss Information has a cold. She can't cope with insanity this week.
Miss Information is annoyed about the US election
...still. But she figures it's really none of her business anyway.
Even so, she has a message for the president.
President Bush, Miss Information wishes you all the best in your new term. There is, however one teensy thing you could do for her. Just once she would like you to pronounce the word "nuclear" properly. It's pronounced "nu-cle-ar" not "nuke-u-lar". She knows your father pronounced it "nuke-u-lar" too, so she doesn't really hold it against you. But seeing that you could potentially destroy the planet with nuclear weapons, she'd really feel better if you started calling them by the proper name.
What Miss Information thought about in Corpse Pose
Miss Information had a moment of perfect clarity tonight in corpse pose. She realized she had set the timer on the VCR incorrectly. Because she has so much new found tranquility, she decided that it didn't matter.
She then wondered if the pain in her chest was a heart attack or just a pulled muscle from incorrectly doing triceps dips in her step class.
Then she thought about food.
Miss Information is annoyed about nothing specific
Well, there is this one tiny thing. On those days when she has the energy to conduct a proper (hah!) reference interview she is amazed by the number of patrons who tell her they don't require anything pacific about their subject.
She does her best to locate only "atlantic" books for them, but sometimes it just gets her down.
Then there's this other thing: Earlier this week a patron took a moment away from her pressing phone call to borrow one of Miss Information's beloved pencils. Which she then put directly into her mouth. Ewww. Generally, Miss Information will go to the ends of the earth to retrieve her pencils, but she decided to let the lady keep that one.
