bibliothekara

yeah, sort of broke that New Year's resolution.  :D

So right now:

*In between semesters, still working at my part-time job. But since I've been doing this in turbo-mode, September 1 marks the start of my last semester for this MLIS. (So brain has decided it's plenty of time to start freaking out about the job market. ;)

*But before that freakout, comes....MOVING TWIRLY BRAIN.  Woo. It's a 2 bedroom place, 1 town over, 4 miles away, starting August 1st. The new place is awesome, and I even get a month to myself to settle in before I have to share it with New Roommate. (Who seems to be awesome; she's a Evo Anthro PhD student, and just as much of a nerd as I am. ) BUT: lease in current place only goes to July 29th; so I've spent this week (no hours at work) moving stuff back and forth in suitcases to Mum's. Then my friend E, gentleman and scholar, has graciously offered to store the big stuff (computer, tv, etc) for the 4 or 5 days in between old lease and new lease.

*Which, also means, bed/furniture shopping. This has the possibility to turn me into Steve from Coupling. (DALEKS!)

*However, I am looking forward to Cape Cod at the end of August.

So apart from the usual anxiety brain, life is pretty good. And I'm really looking forward to living in a neighborhood again,
despite how nice this campus/campus apartment has been.

Finally saw THE APARTMENT on Monday, when I went to pick up the keys from the Housing Office and get my student ID. And I have to say, it's really kind of fantastic. The dining room and the living room are one, but they are furnished (!) I will need to go purchase some Sofa Parasites (tm Steven Moffatt) though. Then there is the unholy abomination that I have termed the Hallchen, because Kitchway doesn't have the cadence. Basically it is a corridor with the bedrooms on one side, refrigerator/cabinets/electric range (!!) on the other, and bathroom at the end. 

Don't know which bedroom I'll get, because a) haven't heard back from Theoretical Roomie, so b) she may be there when I arrive. I have termed them Thingummy and Bob, and am now leaning toward claiming Bob, if I have my choice.

It's less than 48 hours until  Saturday morning and the main portion of move-out. Involving driving and cars. And (Ex)Coworker M coming in contact with my mother. Which could go fantastically, or could go like matter meeting anti-matter. Who knows. Most things are packed. Tomorrow,  since the FG is heading up to campus for band camp anyway, I'm accompanying them with a YOOGE suitcase full of clothes.

I also have a bead on a part-time assistant job which sounds rather fun, so *fingers crossed*; and I've discovered or rediscovered "White Collar", and am having a Tim DeKay renaissance. I swear to god I'm not fandom-cheating on Hotch, though.

And there are many, many other family things going on at the exact same time, so basically, it's our annual/bi-yearly tornado of STUFF. Of which my shit is really the least important; and for the first time in a year or so, I feel like I may be on top of it. (Check back in two weeks after classes start. There May Be Flail.)

[E Has Left The Project Team]
[E is a student again]
[End of line] (?)

So. That happened. Two of the most emotional days in my relatively short experience, and that was only the end of one thing. With the beginning of something else still to come. To retreat to my half an English degree, I'm feeling very liminal right now.

My office ( my office that was) likes any excuse to throw a party, I think, and my departure was it. But it was more than that, I think. We were 6 people, out on a separate campus from the rest of the university, connected by phone and email, but isolated just the same. Shoved together, we somehow clicked beautifully. Not elegant; busting chops, as in any New Jersey office, was our lingua franca. As my TV-tropes-obsessed brain might put it, we were a nakama, a team, for nearly three years. They were my first experience of gainful employment, and as I told them truthfully, I could not have had any better team-mates.

Because, I'll confide something to you, dear readers: I have an evil brain some times. It'll yell "screw-up" and "weirdo" at me constantly at high volume, telling me "People don't really like you. They just put up with you." And then, I have friends, and family, and friends that are family, who say "E's brain, you shut up now please."

My work computer's desktop, for the past year, has been a map of the Discworld. I had the  Three Rules for The Librarians of Time and Space on my wall. I would occasionally babble about it if asked. And a month ago, Coworker M, out of the blue, asked me, "Who's a better character, the Librarian or Ridcully?" I answered to the best of my abilities.

Fastforward to Thursday, and me holding in my hands an Unseen University soccer jersey, with "Librarian" on the back.

*dissolves into squishy emotional jelly*

And now it's over, and I'm not going to wake up Monday and putter into our tiny public-pool-locker-room looking office, say "good morning" or snark about something. I'll see them, I'll keep in contact, but something fundamental has changed.

I'm staring forward at something completely new in my life, in myriad different ways, and  I don't know at all how it's going to work out. *see entry title* Maybe thinking of it as a quest, with an end, will help. Only the orcs are more subtle, and there's no magic ring, just a piece of paper saying "Master's Degree".

Well, at least New Brunswick is not where the shadows lie, as far as I'm aware.

I hereby step my foot onto the road. Which, as they say, does tend to go ever on and on.

Okay, I'm trying to venture out onto the moor, even though I'm mentally shaking. I know that the dragon is only in my head. He's only in my head.

And yes, I'm a drama queen. Background, because I haven't been much for the personal posts on this here LJ, but I must vent: I've been living at home for the last two years, but I have a Plan. The Plan, is that once I've saved up enough, I move out, to (what looks right now to be) Philly, New Brunswick, or Boston. Go get my MLIS, and move out on my own. Which I need to do, really truly, love my family though I do, because complacency is bad, y'all.  I've saved up enough right now, through the grace of my wonderful mother, that I think Sept. 2010 is the target date. Which means Feb.1 is zero hour. So I really need to start doing this thing.

I  bit the bullet, I have all the information in front of me, printed out. I have a folder. I HAZ A FOLDER. (Folders are important.) I have the GRE score. All  of the College's Registrar shit is online now. I  have two wonderful bosses at The Project who've said they'll write  rec letters fore me. This can happen, it will happen.

So why am I so fucking terrified?

Because I am, also, sadly, a sincere and incredibly neurotic pussy who fears change. I spin in my head, for everything in my life, ways it can go wrong, ways I can fuck it up.

Must repeat to self: I can do this. I *can* do this. This is not a bad thing.

fuck, shite and buggerall.