I just had a moment of panic as I realized that I’m not reading anything right now. As in, I don’t have a book going. Not a book on tape, nothing. My shelves are full of options, naturally, but I’m inbetween.

I just finished The Eyre Affair, which I thoroughly enjoyed, although really the best parts were the ones inside Jane Eyre, and What My Mother Doesn’t Know, which had me laughing.

Now you all know. I might try Summerland next, or Headlong, and I just picked up two books on tape from the children’s section because I was trying to shelve and it was just too jam-packed. Our entire children’s library is pretty jam packed, come to think of it. We just started a weeding project in all the fiction sections which I strangely love. I don’t love that some books don’t get checked out and are terribly dated and need to be discarded, but I love the process. I run around the library with a list and a cart, grabbing books and saying prayers of thanks that my favorites are still in favor. Then my supervisor makes all the executive decisions, and lest you’re fretting about the state of public libraries and classics being tossed, she hangs on to good stuff that hasn’t circed in nearly a decade. But it’s hard. So make our job easier and go check out those really good old favorites, so they don’t even show up on our list.

Today it is pouring rain and soon I’ll take Kate to the airport so she can go hang in sunny southern California with her almost-inlaws and then it’ll be me & Mollie. We’ve got a couple dates planned out, some nice dinners together, maybe a couple walks to the park. We’ll cuddle, and she’ll cry a little because she misses Kate, and I’ll give her an anti-anxiety pill smothered in cheese, and everything will be okay.

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