I don’t overuse “kick ass”, do I? Regardless, there’s no other way to put it: yesterday kicked ass. Or, if I were more proactive about my life: I kicked ass yesterday. Yes, I think I like this version better. So there we go. I kicked ass yesterday. It sounds good.

I don’t suppose my job is easily discernable from my title. That’s standard nowadays; when in the course of a conversation one’s title comes up, it is more often than not something like Associate Comptroller of Projectile and Diversification Classification Reordership. While I feel goofy asking, “uh, so what do you DO?” it’s the only thing to ask. Usually the explanation is just as obtuse as the title. My explanation, however, is very simple: I manage the circulation of books and other materials in the library. Sure, I have other duties, but it’s really this basic.

Except for managing people. That part isn’t basic at all, although my philosophy of it is. I am learning how to manage people, and managing people is much more difficult than managing books. (That may seem self-evident, but I know some managers who manage people exactly like they manage books. It doesn’t work.)

Yesterday, I handled a tricky situation well, giving someone what he wanted, compromising just a little while standing firm on everything else. It felt good, and my employee is satisfied with the outcome. The rush I felt as I drove home was incredible, a sensation much like the one I get when I help a patron successfully, only amplified. Another bright red flag: you are in the right job, Halsted. And nothing feels that good, career-wise.

Last night I went to Lily’s for dinner (heavenly tofu curry) and a movie (Eddie Izzard’s “Glorious”). Saying “I had a great time” seems so lame compared to what a time I really felt I had. It’s funny; when I first met Lily, I liked her in that distant way, not really connecting the possibility of friendship with her presence because she seemed like a person who would have more friends than she wanted already. That makes it sound like I thought she was unfriendly, which I didn’t; she just seemed very connected and busy, so I assumed making a new friend in me would be a low priority or not one at all. This all is such a pleasant surprise, but then I feel silly for being surprised. More lessons I have to learn about not making assumptions about people, and instead just saying, “Hi! Who are you?”

Tonight I get to meet and catch up with my writing partner, whom I missed tremendously over my vacation. After that or before, I have to do some cleaning. Really. I haven’t even unpacked yet. And then there’s the little matter of my birthday on the 23rd. I haven’t planned a thing, but I’ll be distraught if I don’t do something for it. It’s my birthday, after all!

My Eddie Izzard moment of today (much like a Zen moment, only rowdier and in eyeliner) is: “I like my women like I like my coffee … covered in BEEEEEEEEEES!”

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.