Walking to work this morning, I realized I most love downtown when it's almost deserted, like early Saturdays or heck, around 10pm when I usually go home. Though it still feels safe somehow, at least in the loop or up along the Mag Mile. I'd forgotten, having been free of Saturdays since the fall, how absolutely mind-numbingly slow it is here. Especially after having already sent e-mails, read blogs, revised a poem. Having exhausted the internet, and already re-organized the stacks of postcards and fliers on the circ desk and perfected the zen of stamping the due date precisely in the little box on the slip inside the cover. I guess I'll have to go scavenge for a book to read (the horror!) There are a couple novels back on my desk if all else fails. I have a hard time reading, or really writing much poetry here since I can't achieve that state of shutting everything else out. I can revise and tinker, read prose, take notes for poems, look at photography books, but nothing that involves deep concentration.

Our whole printing server is down today, so the natives may get restless. Whenever they get nasty I have to bite back the urge to point them rather briskly to the Kinko's round the corner. I will bend over backwards to help nice people, even let them print from behind the counter in an emergency (totally against policy). Even print it for them from my computer in the back. But pull any sort of snotty, "the world owes me" attitude and up goes the blank faced pseudo-niceness and you'll get nowhere. Sorry, really can't help you. It probably makes me woefully unfair and a bit of a bitch, but it pays endlessly to not be an asshole when you want something (in all aspects of life..)

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