Friday, September 09, 2005

Witchy Woman

It is always hard to come back to work after vacation. And I have been on vacay pretty much all summer. When I'm here, I'm not here. A favorite line from this summer at the beachhouse: "Yeah, I live here, occassionally I go to work."

So I am at work and I am thinking, "What was it that I am supposed to be doing again? Hmm..."

I look out my office to the right and there are stacks and stacks of books. It's coming back to me now. I do something with books. Smart cookie that I am. But I'm not reading, my favorite line when I tell people I am a librarian is: "How did you end up doing that? Do you like to read?" Which is just nonsensical to me. Because I am not getting paid to read. And I really didn't shop on career day for something in a book. "Hey Mr. Guidance Counselor, I like to read. Do you have something in that?" With the exception of children's librarians or public librarians who probably do read a fair deal for their jobs, but I digress...

So, right, my job. But then I get confused all over again because when I look straight ahead there is a balcony. I am so important here that they give me a balcony with a view. I must be the Boss. I think that I could set my beachchair out there. The sun is shining. I could work on my tan. Pull up a cooler of Lites. Is THIS the vacation and THAT SUMMER was work? But, no. "What happens at the beach stays at the beach." (Unless I blogged about it and told some dirty secrets.) So confusion rears its ugly head...

So when I look out my office to my left there is a....dead plant. So I know that I need to water it because the gardener hasn't been to the office in awhile now. (Maybe he's at the beach. I checked the balcony, he's not there.) I am an Earth sign. And I was born on Earth Day. And it is nice to be gosh darn useful. So I water those luscious spiney appendages in all their splendor and then start to think that while I have the water bucket I should just resume to watering my own plants. I stop by a few offices around here and ask them if they need it too. I am just offering my best "librarian" services. So people should now ask me, "Why'd you become a librarian? What - do you like to water plants or something?" It's all about changing the image, people.

So I realize that I do have some plants in my office that need some TLC. I have a lovely fern-type one with clover-shaped leaves in the most beautiful shade of green. Nice. I have a sweater that shade of green. (As I will always bring everything back to clothing, people.) This plant lives in the sky. Why yes, I do have a sky and grass in my office, that is why I ALWAYS take my shoes off in my office. I like to feel the grass on my bare feet. Seriously, am I still on vacation? But this lovely little plant resides on top of my upper cabinets and has a long stalk climbing down the bookshelf wrapping its arms around "Small Library Cataloging." (Hey, somebody has to wrap its arms around it. I haven't read it. I'm just the librarian.) But that little kid is growing. I remember when he was a wee thing. But I am starting to look at it as an accessory. (Clothing, people. They don't call me Boa for nothing.) Moving along...I also have some bamboo plants given to me by a friend. They are supposed to bring me good luck. Hmm. They are tied with a red string too. Red represents love. Some feng shui thing going on, I'm sure. So should I be putting those in relationship corner? I look over at relationship corner and I see dried flowers. Dried flowers, people. That's a problem. Is that why all these crushes never survive a week? Because that is about the lifespan of a flower? It' s making sense now.

So - my job this week? After all re-arranging the chi in my office. Moving it around and stopping the poison arrows in my lovelife. How lucky am I to have TWO bamboo plants - not one - because I am looking for my other ONE. Heh heh. So I am focusing on fixing the chi in the office. People next to me can't even have dead plants. Because, you know, office = work = lovelife. I spend a lot of time here. It has to be the explanation for this involuntary sabbatical from a Good Man in my life.

And I'm not kidding. I'm a bit of a superstitious person. I always pick up my feet at railroad tracks. I always get out of bed on the same side that I went in on. I say "rabbit foot" at the first of the month. I loved playing with a Ouija Board as a kid and I am still looking for Cliff Stargon - the boy it said I was going to marry. I have frozen boyfriends in the freezer. In representative form, mind you. And I have put them in honey. And when I am sick, I like to wear yellow. And I spraypaint my cat black. (Not really, just reeling you in.) In fact, my ex sometimes called me a witch. Heh heh. If only Yukkell, if only.

So really when I went to Career Fair as a kid what I asked was, "Mr. Guidance Counselor, do you have something in a spell, maybe?" And he pulled out a book. Perhaps I misunderstood.

So now when people ask me what I do, and I say, "Librarian! Librarian!" like an incantation, they will most likely respond, "What? You couldn't hack it as a witch?"

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