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 Argh. Take back what I said. Companions of the Hall not dead. Stoopid internetz and their bad information.

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I'm so sleepy it's making my eyes itchy. Definitely don't feel like doing my reading for school.  Definitely don't feel like being at work. Definitely, defintely don't feel like writing papers for my classes this week.  School is getting bothersome.

Sadness...

I know Robert Jordan died today. I might have only read the first six books in The Wheel of Time, but I still owe a little piece of who I am to Mr. Jordan. But as sad as that is, I am saddened more by the loss of one of our regular patrons. We didn't talk too often. He was a polite man, though and really, really smart. One of the few regulars that noticed my engagement ring, which kinda made me like him even more. He checked out lots of BBC television specials and programs, read lots of books on myriad historical topics and really liked his dog. He was truly happy to hear me change my major from psychology to classics and medieval studies. I will miss him. Today my co-worker and I cleared his card of holds. This is the fourth time since I have been working here that I have had to go through a patron's record and delete all of their holds and finally delete their account from the system. There is something so unbelievably final in doing that. Like, I don't know, the loss of a library card....it's pretty scary for a bibliophile like me.I still feel dazed and confused when I think about the last patron's account that I had to do that for. I helped him write a sermon about the real meaning of Thanksgiving. He never got to give that sermon. He was dead five days later, before the books that I had ordered him about the historical Thanksgiving could come in. I'm still reeling from it.  I know that I'm really not that intimate with thes patron's that have become my regulars, but I am intimate with what they read, to a certain extent, the content of their minds. You can tell a lot eabout somebody by the things they order in. And many of my regulars have become fixtures in my life, and in my own selfish way, I mourn then for the Mr. X shaped hole that will be in my life.  I'm too cynical to ask why and I'm to atheistic to say anything about god or an afterlife, but I will say this, Mr. X died with 27 books on hold and last week he talked to me about the fifteen that had just read and enjoyed immensely. I have ordered some of the books that were on his list that he will never get to read. The thought of all of those books that won't get read because Mr. X died is almost too much for me to bear. There's something so sad about an abandoned book. So, Mr. X. I read to you, and I hope that when I die, some one will look at my "To Read" list and pick a few to read for me and the continuance of my mind.