I have struggled all day and I still have no idea how to write this, not even how to write around this, so I will just type the words and hope for the best:
I gave notice at the library today.
Those of you who know me well know the enormity of this statement. The library has been my umbilical cord for over five years. The books in it sustained my mind while the people in it sustained my heart. It tried my patience to its limits; it terrified me with its unexpected confrontations and losses; it forced me to face the vast unpleasantness that occasionally resides in my soul.
I became unable to see myself outside of its dusty shelves. How else would I be recognized? How would I recognize myself? And even as I grew miserable with the drudgery and the bureaucracy, even as it became crystal clear that I did not want to go back to school, not now and perhaps not ever, I clung to my tiny throne in my tiny kingdom and shut my eyes and wished for a cataclysm.
Serendipity found me first, in the form of an opportunity, and then interviews, and then an offer. Which I accepted. Today.
I went from ruler to tourist in five small words. I saw the room shake a little, but it was only my hands, my eyes.
The books will be fine, I tell myself, and it’s true. They will be in excellent hands, in the hands of excellent people who remain passionate about them despite a negligent world. And I will be fine too, leaping headfirst into the Web, working with what changed my life eleven years ago, what changes my life daily.
My next adventure begins in just a few weeks. I am not ready, and I am ready.