The Blur That Is Work

I've been at the new (to me) library for a month now and it feels like two days. It also feels like two years. Just like a marriage, I suppose.

I still get excited about going in to work every day. I've hired two people now and within two weeks I'll be getting started on recruiting from within the existing staff in order to complete my department. My end-of-year performance evaluations are almost all written and will be delivered to the respective reviewees next week. Not bad for someone who, about two months ago, didn't really want to go back to work.

And with all this stuff to do, my actual TO DO list seems shorter than ever. I am able to plow through TONS of work each day. This may change next week, however, when I begin to take regular desk hours. For those of you not in the biz... that means scheduled time to be either helping at the reference desk, working at the circulation desk, or checking in books in the workroom. However, I don't think it will affect my productivity very much at all. I've been trying to "get out there" at least two or three hours a day, which is all I'm getting scheduled for to start.

At the old library, I was on a desk about four hours per day usually. Sometimes more... rarely less. I have now concluded that it was simply too much time. As much as I love working with people out on the floor, the things I was expected to do as a manager simply couldn't get done. Like meeting with staff, setting goals and direction for the department as a whole, and completing paperwork. And forget the collection management aspect... marketing and cleaning up the books we have.

And let's not downplay how much happier I am with the shorter commute and with the job in my own community. My days seem so much longer and I get to see people I know all the time. The patrons are my peeps! Sweet!

Of course, having said all that, I do really really really want a vacation soon. I've been dreaming of the beach. Somewhere I need to do little more than read. And chase a toddler. And cuddle a snaggle-toothed baby. Sounds like paradise, doesn't it?