Greetings, dear readers. I call you dear because I am hoping I still have your love and devotion even after not posting for almost a month. Pretty pretty please?
The last few weeks have been filled with scanning for special collections. Mindless scanning. So much scanning that I think the computer screen is giving me a headache. This week, however, all of that changed. I was on reference desk training for four days this week. Basically, I learned that I knew nothing about reference materials, in print or online. I'm not even sure how I made it through undergraduate! The things I knew (or thought I knew) barely scratch the surface of the materials available out there--if the price is right, of course. The availability of all these different research materials makes me want to completely re-research my senior thesis. I'm actually seriously considering this. (Those of you who remember the hell that was my senior thesis research & writing saga, please talk me out of it!!!)
Monday is my first day in Reference and User Services. Reference includes a shift at the desk just about every day of the week, plus FYE (First Year Experience) events next week and the odd project here and there. My very first is to make a poster for our Browsing Room, which I will probably print Monday. User Services includes ILL (Inter-library loan) and Circulation. I think. I was actually just made aware that I would be in User Services an hour before I left work today. The shift is coming at a really good time for me. Even though I am Anti-Change Girl (don't be fooled, the super hero costume is so worth it), I've kind of been itching for a change of pace.
I've been in Gettysburg for about 3 months now. In London, I was on my own (with a roommate) for only 2 months. That I can handle. There is something about slightly past that 2 month mark that makes me sit back and say, "Hmm...I don't think I can treat this like a vacation any more. This is life and I should probably do something with it." I must say, easier said than done.
The time here hasn't been without excitement, however. Two weeks ago, I had a bat in my apartment. How's that for excitement? I think it's enough for a really long time. Anyway, I was just minding my own business, washing the dishes, when I see this shadow out of the corner of my eye. I let it go, because you know sometimes those freaky stink bugs fly around a light a cast shadows when you aren't really expecting them to be around. But then it happened again. The third time I saw the shadow, I looked back. And screamed like a tiny little girl. The shadow that wasn't a stink bug was a bat! Every time it came into the kitchen, I screamed. (Yeah, I know it didn't help anything. But in the moment, it felt really good.) Every time it left, I stopped. I wanted to call someone--anyone & everyone! How does one get rid of a bat? What do you do?? My cell phone was on the table, but I would have had to walk right into the flight path to get to it. So I sank onto the floor and waited for a break. I finally got my phone & called my house. My dear sister didn't have too much advice, except to open all the windows so it could fly out. Wonderful idea--except my windows don't stay open unless something is propping it up. And I currently have screens in all of them...so that would have taken ages. The next call was to my father, who was the sweetest, kindest man ever at that moment. I think he laughed a little at the situation, but since I was so freaked out, he toned it down a bit. He suggested closing all the doors in the apartment to get it trapped somewhere. After closing all the doors in my house, especially the one to the bedroom, I had to look for the dumb thing. I finally found him in the bathroom. I was totally ready to just give him the bathroom (with the shower, clothes, face wash, contact stuff, hair stuff, etc.) and go get new stuff at the store. My dad, being the gem he is (really), was even in favor of this for me. My mom, on the other hand, was all "Go in there and kill it. You don't have the money to buy all that stuff." Very practical, my mother. Not particularly sympathetic when I needed her to be, but there you go. It took me 3 hours, from first sighting to dead bat in a bag, but I finally got up the courage to go in the bathroom and try to kill it. I had a plan, carefully talked out and organized by my mother, father & myself, but thankfully I didn't need it. I walked, er, skulked into the bathroom with a broom as my weapon. I knocked it off the window sash and it just fell. It didn't fly or try to escape. My super heated bathroom must have given it heat stroke! I was able to sleep in my bed after a shower that night...though I was really skittish and slept with a blanket all around me, just in case, even though it was like 90 degrees out. Now, I still am wary going into a room in my apartment. I turn the light on and wait a few moments before going into it, just in case. Now, weeks later, the wary bit has worn off some. Typing all of this out makes me remember and bring back some of the weird fear, but I'm hoping that will all go away soon.
I hope that has caught you up sufficiently, dear readers. I promise to update more often.
Next time, I'll tell you about the night the cops shut down band practice in the apartment next to mine.
Life in Gettysburg is, at least, never completely boring!