Well, friends, I hope you are doing well. I’m here, having just walked to this building while listening to “Eye of the Tiger.” I’m ready to kick ass and take names.  Yeah!  Or I can just get the mail.

The Bea is on the phone, trying to straighten out a subscription snag, while I’m finishing up one of my little projects for her. I’ve been flying under the radar long enough, and I was shocked when she remembered my project yesterday. I wasn’t quite prepared to throw things together, but I showed her what I had. To my surprise, she was pleased with my progress. Phew. Crisis aborted.

The library is full of people this morning, and they all look like they’re trying to finish up some last minute assignments. Some older, important person (blazer-less) was just here, browsing our newspapers. Hmm. I guess some people still do read outdated newspapers. Interesting. This important man left just now, and he had a good long stare at the Bea. I wonder what he was so mesmerized with.

Okay, so. I’m sitting here, in the library, and not one soul has stepped through the doors. Why, oh why, friends, can’t we just close at 5?

I know you don’t have the answer.

“Queen Bea,” I’ll call her, rules this library, and I am one of her little drones. She was already gone when I arrived at work today, but earlier she gave me another little project to do. After six months of working here, I’ve figured out a system for each little task, and this new one is no exception. I’ll stretch it out and fly under the radar for a week or two. I will quietly complete school-related work. The Queen will forget what she’s told me to do. Then, when she remembers and mentions it to me, I’ll get the task done within a few hours.

I’m guessing Bea is about 80 years old, but she shows no signs of retiring. She wakes up every morning, and spends what looks like a good amount of time spends coiffing her curly hair into a prominent poof. She puts on a quarter inch of brown eyeliner (at least) and dons a dark outfit. (She wears dark colors so the dirt from the books don’t show up on her sleeves.)

Bea’s rituals– personal, business or otherwise– never seem to change. But if they did, I fear the library would implode. The library needs her, and in her own stacks no one knows as much as she does.