Libraries

It's a Friday and the first beautiful sunny day after what has been declared the worst winter in decades. What am I doing? Where am I? The park? Having a picnic like all lazy students?

No. I'm in the library. Researching 19th c. furniture.

Now, most people would say that it's not all that grim. I'm in a beautiful library researching a topic in a field that I am passionate about and don't forget, evil of all evils, I could be in an office! Ooooo....not an office. To those people I say, yes, I could be in an office. I could be in an office enjoying coworker banter, having a cup of tea and getting overpaid for the 30 minutes of actual work that I do between two hours of looking like I'm working while planning my evening and weekend. I would relish paycheque and a title rather than the shame and sneer that accompany whichever outcome arises from the question, 'Do you do student discounts?'

Believe me, I've been forced to break out a lot of charm to come back from that one.

But aside from the office maybe being not so bad compared to student life, the specific nature of what my cohorts and I study means that in the incestuous and elite art world we are all so keen to break into, we will see each other all too often after this. Today is really an onerous exercise in professional preparation. I'm in an art library, gorgeous, and yet rife with peril. I'm surrounded by my peers.

The competition is here, and not just for the books on the shelves.

And they're everywhere.

Most offensive is 'The Voice'. She speaks a pitch that only dogs can hear and at a volume that could make a deaf man cry out in pain. She's not just at Christeby's Institute, she's on my course, and in my class. I am subjected to her 5 days a week.

As you can imagine, sharing a quiet space with her is hours of entertainment. From across the silence of the library I hear an ear-splitting whisper, 'Yah, so, like, on my internship there's all this like, stuff I have to photograph and archive. It's like, so draining working for nothing.'

She's bragging about her internship by bitching about the (mundane) responsibilities. Somehow The Voice got an internship only available to non-full time students.

How? Anyone's guess. I vote sexual favours in a cloakroom. Whatever it was, I bet the interviewer just hoped she'd shut up.

So, here I am in the library wishing she'd shut up, and what-ho? The clouds part, a ray of hope beams down.

"Yah, so, like, I have to go now, I've got to get to this internship and like, sit there and photograph more furniture. It's like, so boring."

Result!

"Yah, I'll have to come back here tomorrow. It's so annoying having the extra responsibility of an internship."

Fuck. I'm in here researching tomorrow. Saturday.

Next time someone says I could be working in an office, I'm asking if there are any openings.