Oh I am tired, I am. It's been a fantastically astoundingly perfect day, the kind of day that must only come round a few times a year else we'd all take such beauty for granted. Hot in the sun, cold in the shade, bring a sweater with you but you'll probably end up carrying it because it's just so damned gorgeous and therefore even the cold feels delicious. Food tastes better and drink more thirst-quenching on a day like today.

The book sale is over. I have been running around like a crazy person all day, except for the times when I was frantically planning for class (which was INFURIATING--my students, damn, they pissed me off--the reason deserves its very own entry and perhaps I will feel up to the task after drinking and rest). Today was the cheap let's get rid of everything day. I bought close to 100 books myself, which I can't quite believe, all for $15. Yep. And about 20 art prints for $1. I will wade through my riches tomorrow. I left most everything at work--too tired to lug them all to the truck this evening.

I adore my boss. She runs the book sale every year and she is just one of the most fantastic women I have ever met. Plus she always gives me great books to read and loves to talk about books with me. My whole department is filled with great readers. I love it. I love them. Many of the other library folk are just wacko freaks with the worst social skills you've ever encountered. It's been my experience that the catalog department is usually the final home for the worst of the library crazies, but not here. I think it's because my boss knows how to get good people on board. Great folk. I love my job. I wish to the high heavens it paid more.

Continuing on the embarrassment of riches theme: Bathsheba, my darling and my dearest, sent me Jhumpa Lahiri's book. Plus the two long rambling lovely and ranting emails today and damn. I miss her fiercely. She is my compadre and she is so damnedably far far away. Sob sob sob. I remember last year's book sale and all the books she bought and how we reveled in the books. Damn again.

Oh! But last night was fun. Me and Frances met up for a beer or two and much Buffy talk. I was telling Bathsheba how pleasurable Frances's newfound Buffy love is because she is so completely unspoiled about the show. She is watching it as dear old Joss Whedon intended and I am trying very hard to keep my trap shut about what's to come. It's hard.

I am shell-shocked suddenly. Too many people and too much heavy lifting today and too much irritation with my fucking students. What I'm saying: this entry is over. More to come after the sleepy baby.