A Cave of One's Own...part 2

aka Blue Shirt Nightmare

[before I left for Chicago, I posted part 1]

So, I seethed for a week ... or two. I composed long, involved letters to the people at the library [in my head, not on paper], and in general ranted about the injustice.

It really did set me back in terms of preparing for my exams.

Then, again, so did not having my lists finalized.  And not being able to set a date with my committee for a meeting meant that I had no date set for my exam anyway. 

But, not having my books, not having a list of what was reshelved, and not having a place to put them should I have time to go get them all off the shelf again, did also set me back.

Yes, you read that right... not only did she reshelve my books, she also said I needed to "reapply" for the carrel.  I had already dutifully filled out the form and turned it in the same night of our "altercation." 

That might have been a mistake.

A full two weeks later, I still had not heard from them on my *new* carrel.  So, I went back in ... again I had to talk to blue shirt.  No, she wasn't still wearing it, but I am not going to learn her name - just like she isn't going to send me an email when she has an issue.

She said she hadn't gotten to the open carrel requests yet ... and that as I had just turned it in, she had put it at the end of the pile. I asked her if she had reassigned my carrel to someone else ... no, she answered... obviously not understanding that if she hadn't reassigned it, then she really didn't need to do more than just give me the carrel back.

But, no... she *might* get to it next week ... first she had to go through all the closed carrel applications.

I held my tongue and my fists.  After all, there was clearly nothing to be done.

As I entered the fifth week of the semester with no carrel in sight, no committee meeting in sight and no test date in sight ... I just tried yoga breathing.

I should have taken up kick boxing right about then ... at least I could have channeled the anger into something productive.

I remembered that someone had told me there were study carrels in the business school's library.  I decided to go in there and see what they might say.

I asked the young man at the counter.  They had study rooms, but not ones that you could use long term.

Let me ask the librarian he said, helpfully -- clearly he had missed the training session where library techs were taught to feel all powerful and corrupted by that power. 

I started to tell my story to the librarian, and as I got to the part about the worker reshelving my books, I could see the librarian's body contract in sympathetic pain.  It was like a dagger to her heart.

She told me that the woman who handles the study rooms would not be in until Sunday (this was Friday), but that I should send an email and talk to her.  I think we can do something for you, this lovely librarian said to me, hopefully.

I took the other librarian's card with me, and I intended to send her an email so she would have time to digest the problem before I arrived on Sunday.  But, then life intervened, and it was Sunday and I just decided to wing it.

Before she could get across the room from her desk, she said, I heard about the problem ... I think we can help you.  She hadn't had time to decide which room to give me. 

I told her I would come back on Monday... and when I did, she had a room, and a key and a form she had whipped up as if they had always given out a select number of study rooms.

I don't know if it is a good thing that I never got around to writing the horrible letter to the library or not. I still think that they need to seriously work on the training of the employees ... but I am heartily grateful for the lovely librarians in the other library.  It isn't open very late and not on Saturdays, but it will give me the space to read between classes and commitments that I need.

Would you believe that blue shirt finally got around to giving me back the same damn open carrel the following week? 

When I went back in to pick up the information, she made me wait just to tell me that it was the same damn carrel.  There was an unmistakable smirk on her face... I just shook my head. 

Enjoy the power, little lady.

I just hope that she never takes a class with me ... it will be hard to be open minded and sympathetic to her inevitable requests.

Karma ... it can be your friend, or not.