So. What is it you want to hear about?
I could tell you about the bus monitor drama. We have one hired. Well, Central Office has hired one person. This is nice...but we still need another one. I'm not sure who's bus she's gonna ride, mine I think from what I've been told, although that doesn't necessarily mean anything! I hope she's not a big talker and will just let me drive in peace and not make the kids sing too much. {or at the very least coordinate the singing so that they're all singing the same song...with their inside voices!} Although---I will miss Theresa's distractive chatter. Ok, not a whole lot, but a little.
I could tell you about my soap operatic church. I think we're all nuts. It's not just me that neurotic and dysfuncitional. I think we all are and that we feed each other's insanities.
I could tell you about my overprotective Library boss. You gotta love Alfonse. Well, you don't have to...but the truth is...you either like him or you hate him. I mean, where else can I go and be sung to while he mangles my name? But anyway. we close at noon on Friday's {why? I dunno!} and so he gave me the five minute warning holler so that I'd get off the computer. So I went out to the main desk and he started talking to me about something. The man could have been a Catholic priest or something with all the theological stuff he philosiphies about. And so he's going on about some book he wants to get...and this guy walks in. A creepy guy. Like, old, tobacco stained yucky guy. And he gave some line about not having remembered his card...and his speak was so mangled that Alfonse looked at me and said, 'What'd he say?'...so I told him what I had thought he said. And Alfonse said that the card didn't matter, but that we were getting ready to close. the guy said ok or something like that. Alfonse looked at me again and said, "I don't like that. You're not leaving here until I do so I can walk you out. I didn't like how he looked at you." What could I say but, "Thank you! I didn't like it either!" Of course, nothing happened, Alfonse watched to make sure I'd gotten to my car ok, but the guy was gone by then [that we could see]. It's nice to have people to protect you like that. And it's nice to know that Alfonse would have done that for any lady at the library. What a guy!
Did I leave anything out? Do you have any questions?
I could tell you about the bus monitor drama. We have one hired. Well, Central Office has hired one person. This is nice...but we still need another one. I'm not sure who's bus she's gonna ride, mine I think from what I've been told, although that doesn't necessarily mean anything! I hope she's not a big talker and will just let me drive in peace and not make the kids sing too much. {or at the very least coordinate the singing so that they're all singing the same song...with their inside voices!} Although---I will miss Theresa's distractive chatter. Ok, not a whole lot, but a little.
I could tell you about my soap operatic church. I think we're all nuts. It's not just me that neurotic and dysfuncitional. I think we all are and that we feed each other's insanities.
I could tell you about my overprotective Library boss. You gotta love Alfonse. Well, you don't have to...but the truth is...you either like him or you hate him. I mean, where else can I go and be sung to while he mangles my name? But anyway. we close at noon on Friday's {why? I dunno!} and so he gave me the five minute warning holler so that I'd get off the computer. So I went out to the main desk and he started talking to me about something. The man could have been a Catholic priest or something with all the theological stuff he philosiphies about. And so he's going on about some book he wants to get...and this guy walks in. A creepy guy. Like, old, tobacco stained yucky guy. And he gave some line about not having remembered his card...and his speak was so mangled that Alfonse looked at me and said, 'What'd he say?'...so I told him what I had thought he said. And Alfonse said that the card didn't matter, but that we were getting ready to close. the guy said ok or something like that. Alfonse looked at me again and said, "I don't like that. You're not leaving here until I do so I can walk you out. I didn't like how he looked at you." What could I say but, "Thank you! I didn't like it either!" Of course, nothing happened, Alfonse watched to make sure I'd gotten to my car ok, but the guy was gone by then [that we could see]. It's nice to have people to protect you like that. And it's nice to know that Alfonse would have done that for any lady at the library. What a guy!
Did I leave anything out? Do you have any questions?
Comments
good luck!
Hi - Michele sent me!
Mo: I thought it was good too.
Colleen: Hmm, I wonder how many people it has that effect on?