My metabolism went all kerflooey this weekend for a couple of different reasons, with the end result being that I was sick to my stomach starting on Sunday night and continuing onwards.  I soldiered on through most of the work day on Monday, and of course I had to deal with one annoying library patron after another (which started making my physical and mental states feel equally screwed up):

  • The brusque school librarian who didn’t receive the fliers I’d emailed her last week because she doesn’t check that email address OR because she has a problem with her computer OR because “that’s the email that goes to my friend’s house” (???????)  Check.
  • The equally brusque woman who called to ask questions about someone she’d heard was one of our library patrons — did I know her / had I seen her / could I get her a message — and when I tried to explain about our patrons’ privacy and that I couldn’t even confirm with someone over the phone if another person was in the building, told me that another staff member HAD confirmed that this woman used our library (?!?!) and then got really pissed off at me and hung up?  Check.
  • The teenage girls who begged and pleaded with me to stop what I was doing at the desk (helping a long line of patrons) to get them some toilet paper because they were out of it in the ladies room and it was reeeeeally an emergency, and when I DID go out of my way and get it for them, they FRIGGING STOLE IT when I went back to the desk?  CHECK.

Anyway, so today I felt even worse and today I called out sick.  Today has been filled with over-the-counter stomach-settling things which took many hours to even start to make a difference, supplemented by bananas and Gatorade because MAN, am I dehydrated.  I’m going to be out tomorrow, too, with the goal being that hopefully I can rehydrate and repair myself enough so that when I go back to work on Thursday I’ll feel like a human being again.  Specifically, a human being who will be capable of dealing with my patrons and not snap under pressure like a twig.

Still, though, I must admit that even on my best day I’m not really open to the idea of having to be the frigging toilet paper police.  Grrrrrrr …

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