things move around

I’ve just experienced a shimmer of excitement, rippling up from my heels, vibing through my achilles tendons, cruciate ligaments, and hamstrings, suffusing my groin with warmth, pulsing along my vertebrae and coming to rest, like a lightly-inflated helium balloon on a ceiling, in my brainpan. The cause? An MS Outlook reminder that the long-awaited corporate library open-house is but three hours away.

I love the corporate library, and count myself blessed to work for the sort of company which maintains such a thing. It has real books and everything. Of course no one really uses it, except perhaps the oldest of the old-school metallurgists and geologists. But times are good, and the library has recently expanded to a staff of four - a coordinator, two librarians, and a technician. Hence the open house, to celebrate. Refreshments, door prizes and free books are on offer. I’m counting down the minutes and the hours.

Generally speaking, a coordinator is the bottom rung on the ladder, the lowest of the low, menial, trivial, a drone. But in this case the coordinator is le grand fromage, el presidente, le directeur de la bibliotheque. The big man. The boss of the books. I’m looking forward to shaking them all by the hand.