parts of the day

part 1: the library

i work behind the scenes. i am the hidden gear that keeps the book train moving at the library. i sort the books in the back, shelve them, then put them out for public use. there are four steps dividing the general public from returned books. it's a complicated process. check in, scraping, sorting and shelving. without one part of the train it all falls apart.

internal monalogue is my lone friend out there in the stacks. how many hours till i can go home? is that a cute guy? no, that's definitely not a cute guy. nora roberts will never be my kind of novel. sigh. ten minutes till break. ten minutes till i die. is that patron dead?

there are few things that make my job a little easier. volunteers and cookies. volunteers do my job for me. cookies make my job easier.

His name is Ian. His job is volunteer. He is my new friend. A bored 17 year old looking for something to do while he gets turned down from countless jobs. We talk about Smashing Pumpkins, colleges and Fight Club. (Loves them, wants to be an engineer, hasn't seen it.) I tell him about my dream job -- record store owner -- he says, "You look like someone who would work in a record store." I smile. He understands. He's the best volunteer I have ever met.

part 2: eating disorders

i would say it's extraordinary how we met. she was sleeping on the table and her skin made me crawl. her ankles small enough for me to get two fingers around, i didn't try, i assumed. when she woke up, i relieved that she had a whole face and not one part of it was blown off and eaten by the birds. i wanted to her she was beautiful right away because i had a feeling that no one had told her that her whole life. she certainly had potential.

she recognizes me from the other day. "hi there, how are you? where can i leave these books, i'm coming back. do you know you guys don't have any books on eating disorders." right here it registers. she has an eating disorder. "i've had an eating disorder for twenty years. and where do i work, in a restaurant. if you don't eat, well you go to a place where you can get your food for free. no one suspects a thing. A THING. i'll see you later." she says this like it's no big deal. i don't understand how she can be so self aware, but still have an eating disorder. she leaves. i like her moxie.

part 3: animals are our friends

fish have feelings and i'm much too compassionate to take part in Pixar or Disney movies anymore. making animals talk destroys me and my tender feelings.

part 4: XXX

______________there is no time like the present to get a job at a strip club. i pass about five with NEON signs screaming, "ALL NUDE." we pass like we don't see anything. no one says a word. i stare because i want to be inside. i want to find out what it's like for these women. i think instead of turning our heads we should find out what these places bring to people. i want to interview the women, the business men, the owners. i think it's been done with porn stars in some book i can't remember the title too but it was featured in rolling stone back in the day.

i just don't want to be famous for interviewing strippers.

part 5: the writer

last year, it wasn't very well hidden, i was a suicidal mess. i was a wreck and i hated myself. i'm not sure what brought it out. but after, when i looked back i could see what i had done. what was left "still a mess." i couldn't fix it all. i was just glad i was fixed.

now, i recognize it in him. the writer. how one week he was laughing and we made jokes about Rambo. and then the next week after i come back from colorado, something seems missing. if i could i would play depression relocation because i honestly think that some people need to know what it feels like and he doesn't deserve it now. who else will entertain me with their vile humor? although, even she was disgusted. 
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