vacay makes me dumb

i just checked 20 books out from the undergrad library, a door i have previously never darkened. i had trouble finding the entrance, and when i finally did i was on the very bottom floor. whoch was good cause that's where my books were. but there was no elevator! how could there be no elevator? what about the handicapped? and how do they reshelve all the books?

so i hoofed it up five levels, endless stairs, lungs burning, stomach churning, muscles ready to explode, books balanced precariously ready to topple at any moment, wheezing, panting, fucking dying. i actually sat down for a minute when i got to the main level. i had considered defecting with my books in spite of the myriad signs chiding me to "please check out all books at the circulation desk on the main level." when i was rested and the sweat seemed to have stopped pouring copiously from all of my pores, i went to the circulation desk. which was right. in front. of the fucking. elevators. of course.

i laughed as my arms gave out and the books tumbled all over the counter. the (cute) check out guy (who seemed cool, probably because he is on work study and not one of the usual throw away trustifarians i see on that side of campus) looked at me like i was plumb crazy. he's prolly right.