Miss Information is annoyed by preparations
Miss Information is not the most organized person, but she tries hard. Especially when she is getting ready to go somewhere. For the last several months she organized, purchased and planned. She organized as she went along, making her backpack the centre of all activity and the holding place for her new suitcase lock (old one cut off by criminals during last trip), slippers, new camera, etc.
The packing process took several weeks. She would do laundry and pack a few things, carefully rolling them up to avoid wrinkled t-shirts. This means the actual departure date there isn't much to do--really just lock the suitcase. And the lock is in the backpack. Except it isn't. Miss Information checked all the secret compartments, unpacking the backpack completely. Not there.
Miss Information assumed that sometime recently she'd had a brilliant idea. She hates her brilliant ideas. They mostly just fuck things up because after she acts upon one of these brilliant ideas she erases all memory of both the brilliant idea and the carrying out of said idea. But obviously that's what happened. She'd been inspired and moved the lock into the suitcase. She checks. The lock is not in any external pocket, which would be
logical. Next she tries careful patting, gentle nudging of the suitcase contents. Since this doesn't work either, she frantically dumps everything out. All those carefully rolled and packed garments end up in a pile on the floor. Still nothing.
Miss Information decides that she must dash off to the mall to buy a new lock. She crams everything back into her suitcase--all thoughts of wrinkled clothes abandoned. Then because she's running out of time she starts stuffing her backpack full of her carry-on necessities--which is when she notices that one of her slippers is slightly heavier than usual. At least she doesn't have to go to the mall.
Miss Information decided to give up her efforts to be organized. While drinking coffee halfway around the world she suddenly realized that she had packed her entire supply of DS games, but failed to bring: her birth certificate, her medical insurance card, her health card, and her driver's licence.
Miss Information is annoyed by air travel
He seemed so cute. You know the type--blond, tousled hair, doesn't so much walk as toddle? Seemed cute. From a distance. Suitable distance being defined as "not on the same airplane".
Miss Information was unaware of his presence until about 5 minutes after boarding when she turned to her seatmate and said "Geez, dude...what have you been eating?" only to find he was looking at her with the same expression. It became clear that this whiffy-ness was emanating from the row behind them.
Far be it from Miss Information to interfere with your parenting but really, could you not have changed that baby somewhere else? It wasn't that close to take off.
This was the first sign. It was not a baby. It was a monster. The child proved this by spending the next 8 hours screaming. Now Miss Information is not a total bitch. She knows babies sometimes cry. But this was not crying. This was shrieking. High pitched, high volume shrieking. There was no point to it other than to keep an entire plane of travellers from sleeping. The brief moments when he was quiet were spent kicking the back of Miss Information's seat. Although how he reached the seat with those tiny little legs is a mystery.
The parents of the demon spawn were cheerfully oblivious. In the wee morning hours just before landing the Mom-demon was overheard saying such practical things as "Samuel, this behaviour is unacceptable." Now it was unacceptable? Obviously she couldn't have been referring to the shrieking which had gone on for 7 hours. Miss Information concluded that Samuel was now trying to stab his seatmates.
Also--turbulence. Lots of turbulence.
Miss Information is annoyed by the end times
Miss Information's library is on the brink of closing for a renovation. This was a bad time to take a long vacation. Oh, well. Can't be helped. Vacation is happening in about an hour. Miss Information is pleased to report that her traditional vacation disability is already present--something in her ankle went "sproing" last night while she was running. Oh, well. Can't be helped. Packed the tensor bandage and the ibuprophen.
Prior to the vacation Miss Information worked hard to get her part of the library under control. Trying to get 3 year's worth of work done in 4 days is a Very Bad Idea. It was particularly difficult because game players refused to mute their computers. Hey, wait a sec. That's not a computer, that's a kid! Yep. Let's just call her helium girl because she sounded like she'd been huffing helium from her mom's purse. Mom didn't seem the least bit concerned or irritated by the child's inability to speak without sounding like a cartoon parakeet so Miss Information immediately suspected that the child had a terrible medical affliction. Something had to have been done or removed or adjusted and now this poor kid couldn't speak normally. Miss Information's heart went out to the poor widdle tike....who suddenly forgot she was part of Looney Tunes and actually managed a couple of sentences in a speaking voice that wouldn't shatter glass. But it only lasted an instant before the child reverted to sounding like a soundtrack played at the wrong speed.
Miss Information didn't get a lot of work done because she was busy staring open mouthed at the kid's mother. Had she lost her ability to hear? Why didn't she tell her kid to speak in a normal voice? Miss Information decided the weird affliction a family trait and the mother was afraid to speak because she too sounded like Princess Peach.
Miss Information does not have the energy to deal with this
The library had a power failure on Wednesday afternoon. Obviously it stayed open. The building had enough lights in most areas, except the washrooms where brave, flashlight bearing staff members helped total strangers find the toilet paper. Miss Information doesn't know who you have to annoy to be assigned to bathroom attendant duty, but she didn't make the cut.
Instead she was stationed at the reference desk where she got to watch numerous people press the elevator button and wait apparently believing that the elevator is powered by fireflies. Miss Information is now sorry she started that rumour.
The computers were sorely missed, although the librarian who was in the middle of his monthly Internet training program soldiered on. His presentation is so well choreographed that he continued pointing out important details on the now blank projection screen. After a couple of minutes he, too, gave up.
An Internet workshop is only truly meaningful if there is an Internet.
After a couple of hours power was restored. Oh. Um. Yay.
The children who had been playing Manhunt and Girlslap in the dark made for the (still non working) computers at top speed, knocking over customers, slamming into each other. It was like the movie
Village of the Damned except the library kids are evil.
Miss Information and her colleagues frantically rushed around trying to restart the computers before the children developed a taste for human flesh.
She has never seen anything like it. They were vicious. Miss Information could easily believe they'd spent the summer at some kind of commando training camp, except that they never leave the library. Maybe Manhunt is a skill-building activity after all.
Next time there's a power failure Miss Information is putting on a kevlar vest and turning the reference desk into a bunker.
