Strange Child Am I
Dec. 29th, 2008 12:03 amDo you recall when you were a child, and, if you celebrated Christmas, you waited with anticipation for the 25th of December? Perhaps you tried to stay up late, or maybe you just got up early. The sound of jingling bells made you race down the stairs in hopes of catching a glimpse of the jolly old elf himself.
Well, I've had a couple of nights of staying up late, getting up early, and generally just not being able to concentrate. I can't even write, though I had hoped to, during these last few days. I've had the time, and how. I have the muses, they won't leave me alone. But there's something I've not had now for a week.
I really, really miss my library.
Gyah, y'know, if I ever see a fic with Erestor just pining for his library and then see a comment where someone goes 'oh, no one would ever care that much about a room full of books', I'll slap them with a smelly trout.
Seriously.
I am so close to tears it's not funny. I want my library. I want the aisles of books, the piles of unanswered correspondence I really need to get to, the half-buried desk, the comment box where someone keeps sending fake letters addressed from Turgon or Sirius Black, the silence, the comfy couch, the slightly mismatched furniture, the over;y excessive section on Alexander the Great, the out of order DVDs, the problem books with missing barcodes, the labels and the ink and all of that knowledge that normally surrounds me daily.
And strangely enough? I'm missing the council meetings, too. There's not another one until late January. That's over a month without one. A room full of people who can't agree, and I miss it. WTF, yo?
It's going to be very quiet tomorrow, and that's probably a good thing. I'll get to glomp the library and bond with it for a while without interruptions. I am extremely tempted to take some of my quills with me tomorrow. Or, rather, the muse is nudging me and saying I should -- who am I to refuse him, right?
Well, this little book deprived chief counselor is taking herself off to bed, because the sooner she does, the sooner she gets to see her library again. It's going to be like Christmas morning for me when I get there.
Well, I've had a couple of nights of staying up late, getting up early, and generally just not being able to concentrate. I can't even write, though I had hoped to, during these last few days. I've had the time, and how. I have the muses, they won't leave me alone. But there's something I've not had now for a week.
I really, really miss my library.
Gyah, y'know, if I ever see a fic with Erestor just pining for his library and then see a comment where someone goes 'oh, no one would ever care that much about a room full of books', I'll slap them with a smelly trout.
Seriously.
I am so close to tears it's not funny. I want my library. I want the aisles of books, the piles of unanswered correspondence I really need to get to, the half-buried desk, the comment box where someone keeps sending fake letters addressed from Turgon or Sirius Black, the silence, the comfy couch, the slightly mismatched furniture, the over;y excessive section on Alexander the Great, the out of order DVDs, the problem books with missing barcodes, the labels and the ink and all of that knowledge that normally surrounds me daily.
And strangely enough? I'm missing the council meetings, too. There's not another one until late January. That's over a month without one. A room full of people who can't agree, and I miss it. WTF, yo?
It's going to be very quiet tomorrow, and that's probably a good thing. I'll get to glomp the library and bond with it for a while without interruptions. I am extremely tempted to take some of my quills with me tomorrow. Or, rather, the muse is nudging me and saying I should -- who am I to refuse him, right?
Well, this little book deprived chief counselor is taking herself off to bed, because the sooner she does, the sooner she gets to see her library again. It's going to be like Christmas morning for me when I get there.