I don't often draw a Sunday shift, but there are times when it is necessary. Today was my day for the 2 to 6 shift. The Library Director had elected to take the 6 to 10pm shift, this precursor day to the semester's beginning when students would be milling about, checking email, reconnecting with friends, scoping out changes.
It was busier than I expected, a number of grad students already well into their research. As I demonstrated databases and provided directions to various resources, my tummy tingled with anticipation. Our Operations Manager had decided to spring a surprise birthday party on our director, and I knew that after my shift people would be sneaking into the building with cake and drinks and a gift.
It was easy enough for me to mumble an excuse about staying awhile to get some stuff done, but others had to take a circuitous route in the back door, up the stairs, down the elevator and sneak into the staff break room while the director was not looking in their direction. At one point, sequestered in my office, I got a call from the Curriculum Lab. How odd! No one was in that area that I knew of.
Two staff members had nearly been spotted getting off the elevator. They quickly closed the door and beat it back upstairs, hiding out and calling me to run interference while they snuck back down. At last everyone had gathered in the staff room, and I got to execute the subterfuge to get the director into the staff room. I just said there was something odd going on in the staff room and could he please come and take a look. I stood back and indicated that he should go first.
The lights were off, but the candles on the cake were lit. As soon as he opened the door, everyone yelled "surprise!" And indeed, he was. We had a good laugh and everyone recounted their escapade about how they snuck in. The lemon cake was delicious and the gift appreciated. I don't know who had a better time - the director or the plotters who carried it off. It was fun for sure.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Sleepin' In
I wake with a start and grab my alarm clock. 6:00 am! Already past my usual rising time. Yikes! Then I remember - today is Saturday. And not the typical 'places to go, people to see' day. Today my schedule is strangely void of meetings, work obligations, commitments. Oh, sure, the boys have stuff to do, and soon they will be clamoring for me to take them here and there. But at the moment, I have actual leisure time!
I debate what to do. The wide world outside my window beckons me with sun dappled fields and cheery blue skies. A light breeze combs the trees, enticing me with the prospect of exploring the hidden paths in the piney woods. No, I am not in the mood to wander into new places.
The pile of books by my dresser calls me - men and women from times and places long since gone invite me to step into their world and experience things I would otherwise never know - learn from their wisdom, understand their issues, see how they handled things. As fascinating as that is, I decline (in spite of the fact that I must accomplish a certain amount of that before class next Tuesday).
From the kitchen, last night's supper dishes call for my attention - it may be the only chance I have to neaten and straighten the house before the insanity of day begins. But the boys and I have made a pact. On the weekend, we each will clean one room (how convenient that there are three!) and this week the kitchen belongs to Drew. I resist the impulse.
It is too early to practice piano or listen to music without headphones or watch anything on TV if indeed there were anything worth watching. No, I have a better use of my unexpected leisure time. I am actually going to rest. Stay in bed. Catch a few more zzzz's. Sleep in! I roll over, pull the covers up to my chin and close my eyes. Normally when I try this, my mind is running a mile a minute and I cannot for the life of me stay put. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I finally admit defeat and get up.
But today is different. I drift off almost immediately. Like a swimmer coming up for air, I wake and doze, wake and doze, watching the numbers on the clock change. I dream strange nonsense, puzzling over the actions when I wake, sorting the credible from the fantastic, slipping into slumber before I have quite figured it out. I must have needed the rest.
I do not venture forth until well after 8:30, and even then I do not dive into cleaning, reading, working, walking. I partake of a leisurely breakfast of cinnamon raisin toast and yogurt, sitting in front of the wide open window, watching the world awake. It feels good. I should definitely try this again.
I debate what to do. The wide world outside my window beckons me with sun dappled fields and cheery blue skies. A light breeze combs the trees, enticing me with the prospect of exploring the hidden paths in the piney woods. No, I am not in the mood to wander into new places.
The pile of books by my dresser calls me - men and women from times and places long since gone invite me to step into their world and experience things I would otherwise never know - learn from their wisdom, understand their issues, see how they handled things. As fascinating as that is, I decline (in spite of the fact that I must accomplish a certain amount of that before class next Tuesday).
From the kitchen, last night's supper dishes call for my attention - it may be the only chance I have to neaten and straighten the house before the insanity of day begins. But the boys and I have made a pact. On the weekend, we each will clean one room (how convenient that there are three!) and this week the kitchen belongs to Drew. I resist the impulse.
It is too early to practice piano or listen to music without headphones or watch anything on TV if indeed there were anything worth watching. No, I have a better use of my unexpected leisure time. I am actually going to rest. Stay in bed. Catch a few more zzzz's. Sleep in! I roll over, pull the covers up to my chin and close my eyes. Normally when I try this, my mind is running a mile a minute and I cannot for the life of me stay put. After twenty minutes of tossing and turning, I finally admit defeat and get up.
But today is different. I drift off almost immediately. Like a swimmer coming up for air, I wake and doze, wake and doze, watching the numbers on the clock change. I dream strange nonsense, puzzling over the actions when I wake, sorting the credible from the fantastic, slipping into slumber before I have quite figured it out. I must have needed the rest.
I do not venture forth until well after 8:30, and even then I do not dive into cleaning, reading, working, walking. I partake of a leisurely breakfast of cinnamon raisin toast and yogurt, sitting in front of the wide open window, watching the world awake. It feels good. I should definitely try this again.
Friday, August 29, 2008
Seagull Riot
No matter what time of day or night you drive past campus on Buffalo Road, you will find the center of the track filled with seagulls just sitting there nonchalantly doing nothing. When I first observed this odd behavior, I wondered if the center of the track were heated, enticing the birds to settle in. Or perhaps there were caches of worms and grubs that attracted their attention. I asked several people, and mostly they had never given it any thought. One person said in a very matter of fact way that they are there because of the pond on the other side of the field house. Period. End of discussion. I was not convinced. But since I don't speak seagull, I was stuck with that explanation.
I was surprised to find that when there are events, the school pays people to scatter the birds and shoo them away from the grass in the track center. How absurd! Of course, I know airports do that for safety reasons. But wouldn't it make more sense to find out why the seagull sit there and address the reason? After all, the ducks and geese are smart enough to contain themselves to the actual pond. Perhaps seagulls are a bit mental and don't quite get it right.
Today, the new students arrived in droves. Six hundred freshmen and transfer students descended en masse to campus, littering the lawn with cars spewing dorm furnishings and younger siblings. It was a tonic to have such activity after the doldrums of summer. Parents wandered into the library to check it out, timid and awestruck and maybe just a little bit overwhelmed by it all. I loved chatting with those who were willing, meeting the new students, answering questions (where's the bathroom being the all time favorite). It was great.
On the way home, as I headed my Malibu down Westside Drive, I suddenly realized that the seagulls were completely discombobulated. Most of them were airborn, wheeling and crying in distress. The rest of them were scattered all over the ground from the farthest soccer field to the tennis courts to the lawn behind the athletic center. They definitely did NOT like the students taking over their world and were demonstrating vehemently to anyone who would notice.
It will likely take days for them to settle down. I wonder they don't just give up and find a quieter place to reside - like an actual sea or lake. There are tons of them nearby. I do feel just a bit sorry for them though. Maybe I can ask an expert scientist why they behave as they do and get to the root of their problem. Or not.
I was surprised to find that when there are events, the school pays people to scatter the birds and shoo them away from the grass in the track center. How absurd! Of course, I know airports do that for safety reasons. But wouldn't it make more sense to find out why the seagull sit there and address the reason? After all, the ducks and geese are smart enough to contain themselves to the actual pond. Perhaps seagulls are a bit mental and don't quite get it right.
Today, the new students arrived in droves. Six hundred freshmen and transfer students descended en masse to campus, littering the lawn with cars spewing dorm furnishings and younger siblings. It was a tonic to have such activity after the doldrums of summer. Parents wandered into the library to check it out, timid and awestruck and maybe just a little bit overwhelmed by it all. I loved chatting with those who were willing, meeting the new students, answering questions (where's the bathroom being the all time favorite). It was great.
On the way home, as I headed my Malibu down Westside Drive, I suddenly realized that the seagulls were completely discombobulated. Most of them were airborn, wheeling and crying in distress. The rest of them were scattered all over the ground from the farthest soccer field to the tennis courts to the lawn behind the athletic center. They definitely did NOT like the students taking over their world and were demonstrating vehemently to anyone who would notice.
It will likely take days for them to settle down. I wonder they don't just give up and find a quieter place to reside - like an actual sea or lake. There are tons of them nearby. I do feel just a bit sorry for them though. Maybe I can ask an expert scientist why they behave as they do and get to the root of their problem. Or not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)