desktop confessional

I have heard as much weird shit working as a librarian as I have working in the mental health field. No lie. Sometimes patrons feel the need to share a little piece of their personal history, reach out to someone else, try to connect, TMI it just a little. In a less than five minute conversation tonight these are some of the interesting gems which I learned about one of our patrons:

• hasn't been in a library in years
• turned off phone and internet at home to force herself to leave the house
• grand kids are troubled, so she wants to read a book to, "not knock some sense into them," but rather, "hit them with love."
  
• bought $2000 worth of beads, not the cheap kind...I mean some cheap ones...but a lot of silver and gold nice ones...she put an ad on Craiglist to find someone to work on beading things with her and no one ever responded..."Oh, I love your necklace!" (That was a particularly great stream of conscious! Look out Virginia Woolf!)
  
• wants Craiglist to come out with a book, Craigslist for Dummies, she'd get it
• suffers from medical fibromyalgia
• has a medical memory problems (she told me this after asking my name, TWICE in about thirty seconds)

Tonight, for some odd reason, the library is rife with weird and cranky adults and confused teens. Is there going to be a full moon soon or something!?
Thinking of how my desk felt like a confessional made me think of Dashboard Confessional, which made me want to listen to some of their old, angsty stuff...ah...tonight is shaping up to be just like a Laura Numeroff book...