finder's keepers

While not as productive today as I had hoped, I still managed to get a significant amount of studying done. My good intentions to get to the local coffee shop at 8 am were thwarted when I woke up in a panic at 8:27 am and thought, "My God! The alarm isn't set for weekends!" Fortunately, and according to my therapist, I am now better equipped to deal with an unexpected change in plans - I studied in the quiet of my dining room while I waited until 10, when the local library opened.

It seems that I am the only person in Fort Worth who regularly takes advantage of our huge-ass temple of literary bliss and intellectual solitude... And I like it that way. When I think back to my days as a young and impressionable bookworm, I remember feeling overwhelmed and nervous at the thought of being among so many unread books. Behold, the magnitude of the task before me! This continued even throughout my high school years, which seemed to involve a lot of studying at the Sharon Public Libary or various institutes of higher learning. Even Tisch and the BPL struck some semblance of fear into the very core of my being, as, for me, each new library presented a new set of questions - Will their internet work? How is their fiction catalogued? Do they have private study areas? Will they have what I'm looking for? Will I be be able to accomplish enough during my time here? Will the decrepit library monitor confiscate the tall Starbucks nonfat hazelnut latte protruding from the inside of my peacoat like a fanny-pack gone terribly wrong? Only time would tell.

These days, I'm not so anxious about libraries. Perhaps it's because my visits are mostly recreational. But even now, when I seek a quiet room in which to study, my experience is fairly pleasant. I can finish the work I set out to finish with minimal discomfort. I also think that I can attribute a large part of my ease in the FWPL to the fact that, in contrast to past experiences, there is so little library traffic to contend with. I know, almost without a doubt, that My Study Room will be always be available. Toddlers don't study, and, around here, adults don't appear to, either.

In fact, the day I encounter an adult making use of MY coveted spot is the day I will either heartily congratulate them for pursuing higher education or accuse them of pedophelia. Regardless, the conversation will end with me kicking the offender out. Because you're allowed to do that when it's your study room.