Adrift

I was trying to write something serious, but got distracted by a script that may or may not be dirty. Maybe it's supposed to be seductive, but it just sounds filthy. Suns unsheathing swords, finger foods...ick. Or maybe I'm just immature. I did just finish reading A Round-Heeled Woman : My Late-Life Adventures in Sex and Romance - so maybe that's coloring my perceptions.

Hey wait! I read a book! And an interesting read it was. I highly recommend it, for women - not so much for men. Too girly.

Anyway, serious. Which comes with difficulty, as I mostly just throw random things out here and there, none of which are particularly insightful or meaningful.

But I think. A lot. About the future, what the next year holds for me, how things will change once I have an MLIS after my name, IF they'll change...it keeps me awake in the wee hours of the morning.

I want it to mean something. Outside of getting married, this is the most important thing I've ever done. My bachelor's was nothing - everybody gets one. This degree counts - it will put me on a course for the next 35 years, or as long as I keep working. But sometimes I feel like I'm just another librarian getting in line for the same jobs for which everyone else is already in line.

This experience is too hard for it to become an exercise in futility. I work in a position that will never go any further than where it is now, and while it's fine for the interim, I can't see myself answering phones for another five years. Nor will I. I'll skip town and open a bar on the beach first.

Wait - maybe a library on the beach. Now that has possibilities.

See? Serious is hard. And I know everything will be fine and I'll escape this desk and move on to...a different desk. But it WILL be different. It's hard to believe that things will ever change, that I'll ever be done with school, that I'll actually get a job somewhere that I truly want to be.

This makes my current job sound like a pit. It's not, and a lot of people would LOVE to work here. It's not lost on me, for sure. I think about not being here and what it means - like missing the openings for a number of projects that might actually get built. But it's not worth staying.

Not when a whole world of information waits out there for me to make it accessible to the masses.