The Word of the Day is:
urbane (adj)
er-BAYN
: notably polite or polished in manner
Yesterday I had the inestimable pleasure of meeting the most urbane fifth grader I've ever met. She approached the reference desk, all big eyes and glasses, long, shiny brown hair in a messy ponytail. She was so well spoken but seemed a bit anxious when she asked if she could use the computer more than once a day. When I told her yes, she put her hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief, like an old, southern lady clutching a tear stained handkerchief and said "Phew. I have one more project to finish." A kid worried about finishing her homework? It was me, 30 years ago.
She then proceeded to tell me about her dance program afterschool and how she was concerned (her word) that she wouldn't do well on her finals next week. I walked away from the desk for a moment to tend to a computer issue and when I came back she said, "By the way, do you have anyone in your life to tell you that you are so, so pretty. I really mean that. You are beautiful." Speechless, I just smiled. I never know what to say when complimented, much less so earnestly. I finally just said, "You are so SWEET!" And she said, and I quote, "Nah. I just think everyone should know the truth about themselves and everyone should feel good at least once a day. The world would be a nicer place if we all believed that." !!!! I have been racking my brain trying to remember the last time I met a child who had that level of empathy, emotional intelligence and the ability to express it so eloquently! I came up with zilch. I later found out, to my heartbreak, that this little girl is currently living in a homeless shelter with her mother. It made sudden sense to me that she was so put together and wise beyond her years; some children just have to grow up faster than others.
In unrelated, other news:
Last week was eventful in that it started out with me feeling dizzy while standing in stationary positions and ended with nausea crawling slowly over my body like a summertime inchworm across a hot, metal mailbox. I had to threaten it with permanent sleep and/or some antibiotics in order to get it gone. If miracles were a thing, I would be under the distinct impression that I was pregnant. Turns out, my body is just allergic to my job. That's a self diagnosis but I have spent my entire adult life getting sick maybe once a year but since starting this most current job nine months ago (there's the preg thing again), I get sick two or three times a month. Since my life is measured on the last day of every month in one infinite Excel spreadsheet of a timecard, I've kept a tally of the days I've been sick and it ain't pretty. I'm either going to have to quit or...I think I'll just quit.
Spring has sprung and time whorls around my head with impunity and an ever growing cluster of omgsomuchshitihavetodo. I spent the winter wanting a relationship but I'm actually super maxi extreme ultra happy it didn't happen because I just have less than zero time for my first and only love: writing. There is no way I could have squeezed regular stroking (of the ego you PERVERTS) into my schedule. All in due time and things come when they are supposed to and blah blah blah.
Also, the phones at my job have been down for days. Literal days. I would say this was surprising and frustrating but that would be a lie; it has been downright par for the course at this job that things never work as they are supposed to and the silenced phones have been a welcome respite from the noise. Now I can hear all the children moaning while running in place because they have been gifted with so much energy at a time in their lives when they don't need it. So, breaking news there: Youth is Wasted on the Young.
I have some travelling to do and I'm not sorry to be away from this petri dish. Things are happening in my professional and creative life that feel on verge of gathering momentum. I hope that isn't me projecting but time will tell.
I just noticed it has been almost three weeks since my last blog update. I guess I've just been busy doing other, no less senseless things. Like, for example, I just spent way too long reading about train derailments. I find myself at the moment, unsure of how to end this blog post. I really just wanted to write something in here to get my brain thinking about writing. That's all I ever aim to do in this blog. So, um, bye, I guess.
I remember when your sister would not do her homework (a chronic weakness of hers) you would ask me if you could do it for her. You were such a little bookworm then. I'm proud of you Bonz.
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