Library mornings

I love my library. I love arriving early in the morning and turning on the lamps and twinkle lights, the diffuser (Autumn Crisp today), making a cup of coffee and walking around the shelves righting books that have been displaced. It's quiet and peaceful and a happy place.
I love the conversations that take place in the library. What someone is reading now, a book they've heard of and want to know if I've read, a book cover that looks intriguing but have I read it? would I recommend it?

It saddens me that so many schools decide this isn't an essential place. That professional librarians are easily replaced with someone who checks books in and out and puts them back on the shelves. 

Shift

Sometimes I panic and think, we forgot to talk about....
the drugs at college.
And then there are the things I didn't think we'd need to cover...
joining a fraternity.
I didn't realize my voice would change. I can listen, I can discuss, but it is no longer my decision. I can't judge. My judgement will cease the next discussion. I can't throw out all those opinions whilly, nilly. I only get to have good talks with him once a week or so. What I say needs to be more measured.
The relationship has shifted.