At the risk of convincing you I'm nuts (which, arguably, I may very well be), I gotta tell you about my recent library adventures.
I was headed to the library Monday to pick up some books to prepare homeschool plans for the fall (our first unit -- matter and chemistry) when I suddenly had the thought: Wait! I can't check anything out of the library -- they revoked my library privileges! And I remembered standing at the desk and the lady handing me my library card, telling me my checking-out privileges were revoked. I asked, "You mean, like, forever?", and she nodded solemnly. I exited the facility rather stunned and much ashamed.
Well, darn it, I thought, now half-way to the library and really needing those books. What do I do now? Then I remembered that my daughter's library card was in my bag; I'll check out the books on her card. And perhaps I should try talking to the lady at the desk again about this situation with my own card. Forever can't really mean forever. Surely just a year probation or something, right?
So, while I'm pulling the books I need off the shelves, I'm plotting my strategy for getting my library privileges back. And I'm realizing that I don't remember much of this conversation with the Library Lady. Why exactly did she say my privileges were revoked? Why did I not doing something about it right away? And when was that conversation anyway? Then I catch a glimpse of the clock and realize I'm going to be late getting the girls from their golf lesson. So, I hurriedly check out my books on the daughter's card and scoot.
All the while driving to the golf course, I'm wondering at myself and how I could have just forgotten about this library situation until this morning. I mean, I homeschool -- I use the library all the time. Not being able to check out library books is a huge problem. How could I . . .
Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind: Did that conversation really happen?
And in a split second, I'm doubting all of reality. Ever had that feeling? When suddenly, you feel like you're walking in a dream and nothing around you feels quite real? It's freaky. An hour earlier, on the way to the library, that memory of a shameful confrontation with the Library Lady was so vivid in my mind, I was thoroughly convinced it happened. Now, I'm not only doubting I had that conversation, I'm doubting that my car is really speeding down I-29 with me at the wheel.
My family thinks I'm nuts. They say it must have been a dream; if I'd had a nasty altercation with the Library Lady, I would surely have mentioned it to them. And that makes sense. I'm done with those library books, and I'm taking them back today while my daughters are at golf again. And this time, I'll check out the next set on my OWN library card, if they let me. I'll let you know how that goes.
I'm not really sure which would be worse: finding out I'm wacko, or finding out my library privileges were revoked.