Sunday morning, 1997.

Worked seven days in a row–me and all who remain, filling-in work shifts for those who have quit during the course of this upward learning spiral.

There was an EMO from Theron a few days ago warning about the system being down on Saturday. He would be installing system upgrades and couldn’t really say how long it would take.

Joan and Jamie were in giddy hysteria when I saw them in the break room. The two of them had been running the Circulation department all morning, using pens and paper to manually check-in and check-out books. Then they got onto the proposed changes for the Staff Association and were falling over in their chairs laughing, at separate tables. I finally had to get out of there, preferring to re-shelve a cart of books in Storage rather than try to match their madcap humor.

Jamie, 22, all polyester, eating candy. Joanie, twice Jamie’s age, all natural tones, eating a baked potato, left over from Thursday’s Baked Potato Lunch Party.

Theron wandered into Storage, completely disheveled and smiling. His hair was standing up like waves. “I’ve been on the phone all day with CLSI,” he said. “They say ‘try this.’ I do it, and it doesn’t work, and they say, ‘Okay, here’s another one.'”

Theron looks like he’s been having great sex all day with a beautiful stranger. That same deshabille and crazy look. He wanders out again, ready to have another go.

Back upstairs, Linda T. and I plan our divorce; henceforth, I will be managing Periodicals without her. She will manage public PCs. Linda created a computer sign-up system that can be controlled from either of our desks. I talked to Kevin about furniture. Elevatored down to IT to get floor plans for the new layout. Theron was there–on the phone again–speaking calmly, rationally, and making faces at me.

Borrowed a measuring tape from Maintenance. Walked around upstairs measuring things, pacing off steps, imagining cubicles. Whited-out some lines on the floor plan and penciled-in new ones.

Linda T. was making up a list of names for her 10 pcs. I suggested mythical heroes. She went with philosophers: Plato; Socrates; Hypatia; Boethius, Marcus Aurelius, Descartes, Nietzsche, Kant, Hegel, and Bertrand Russell.

Who the heck is Hypatia?” I said.

“Hypatia?” says Linda. “A woman philosopher who lived in Alexandria and was murdered by Christians.”

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