The Crunch

One distinguishing characteristic that I have, despite all evidence to the contrary, is a pretty quick temper. Most people who are close to me have either seen this at work or only know this through my repeated cries of "No, really!" It's absolutely true, though; maybe I just know how to handle my temper after all this time.

The place where my temper is on display most is at work. Today is a perfect example. I come in, note that most of the books Don priced yesterday go into some of my sections, which are already overstocked as is. Charles wants me to find a way to put up a gigantic set of Alice Bailey (Theosophist) books with flair (in this case, flair = box). And, a quick glance at the books that Charles is pricing today tells me that I'm going to have a lot of Gardening and Photography How-To books to deal with today. These sections are also overstocked.

Yesterday, I had to deal with a bunch of Hindu books (you try finding room for a 28 volume set where each book is two inches thick (by the way, two inches may not sound like a lot for a book, but it is...go on, grab a ruler and see for yourself. I'll wait.)) and a metric fuckload of books on the Vietnam War, which is...you guessed it, overstocked. So most of my afternoon went to straightening and culling that section, and today I'm going to have to deal with the exact same thing.

By now, I'm getting *really* grumbly. But if I work fast and no one bothers me, I just might be able to deal with everything by the time Don shows up in the afternoon. Just as I'm going back, the floodgates open.

For two hours solid, there is a line of people bringing in books to sell -- five to six moving boxes at a time. The phone is ringing every fifteen minutes from people wanting to know when they can bring in *more* books to sell. I have to wait on customers who actually want to *buy* books from us, handle the phone, clean and price paperbacks, transport boxes to and from the cars of people who are selling, move boxes so Charles can get to them, tell other customers where different sections are, make boxes so that Charles can put *more* books into them...

And now, I'm gruff. And snappy. And every time someone brings in boxes of books I look at them like they've ground down my last nerve.

Then, something amazing happens. Someone asks if it's unusually busy. Someone else says "Thank you." Another person notices that I look harried. And that's all it takes for my mood to break and my nerves to calm down. Now I'm not overwhelmed, I'm just...fantastically busy. But it's OK. The world's not so bad.

Eventually, the rush dies down. We take care of all the customers who want to sell books, and everyone who wants to buy books, and the people who just want to know where everything is. The phones stop ringing, Don comes to take Charles to lunch, and I have a moment to sit back and drink the coffee I bought at 9 this morning. And I'm looking back at all of that and wondering why in the world I was so angry. It's just one of those days.

Still, that doesn't stop the unstoppable crush of books coming my way. I really should get to those.

For potoroo

I found this little blurb in a review for "Last Night" by Roger Ebert. This was a film that Potoroo recommended for me, and has since become one of my favorites.

Note: On a talk show in Toronto, I was asked to define the difference between American and Canadian films, and said I could not. Another guest was Wayne Clarkson, the former director of the Toronto Film Festival. He said he could, and cited this film. "Sandra Oh goes into a grocery store to find a bottle of wine for dinner," he said. "The store has been looted, but she finds two bottles still on the shelf. She takes them down, evaluates them, chooses one, and puts the other one politely back on the shelf. That's how you know it's a Canadian film."