“Of the organising of books there is no end, and too much shelving is a weariness unto the flesh.” As Einstein said, on the internet. Or possibly Oscar Wilde.
I’ve been working in the library. All the live-long day. I have a lot of things to blog, but no time at the moment.
I am building up to a post on why hitting children is a bad idea. Which links to theories about sexual development and interest in bdsm. But maybe it’ll be all the better for leaving it brewing in the back of my mind for a while before I write it.
Here’s another pic of the library, to give you an idea just how much work I have to do.
Today I’m a hot librarian. I’m getting my books out of boxes, and sorting them by Dewey, more or less, and alphabetical for the fiction. I’m a snob, so “literary fiction” is shelved separate from genre science fiction, crime, etc. It’s so wrong, but it feels so right.
Then I’m going to buy a leather armchair. I’m sure I’ll find some uses for it.
But I won’t be writing much today.