It's winter?

Eve spent today stomping around yelling, "THIS IS ILLEGAL." Now, whispering Eve can be heard through walls; bellowing Eve is a force of nature. I was secretely pleased with the amount of chaos she caused, though, as it gave me something to think about other than the cold. The heating system at work picks today of all days to die out.

We have a lot of windows, which normally is pretty great. There's nothing I like better on break than to just sit and look out over the water. However, windows are leaky, and with the heat on the fritz, the library pretty quickly equilibrated to the outside temperature. (Or something that felt like it.) No wind, though, so: sucky day but manageable with coats and coffee. (Although: 5 cups without thinking about it in as many hours + everyone else going at about the same rate = so much accomplished, and also a huge line-up at the bathroom.)

Tragically, though, I lost my mittens and hat on the subway and was forced to pick up new ones. The stores were, predictably, pretty picked over, so I ended up with a hat that makes me look more or less like a goofball. ("One size fits all": untrue.) It's got snowflakes and is fleecy and warm and actually I sort of love it and will probably wear it more than necessary.

Cubby, sweet cubby

New job = awesome. Spy-style time clock aside, the actual job is pretty darn great. The work is actually what I strongly suspect I want to do with my life (which is a pleasant change), and I am enjoying it fully. The people are also pretty great so far, even Eve. Eve is old and says inappropriate things very loudly. My supervisor actually pulled me aside early on my first day to warn me about her. (“Mostly we all just wear headphones. It doesn’t stop her talking, but you can pretend like you don’t hear her and don’t have to respond.”)

Plus, I have a librarian date-stamper all of my own. And a cubby! My cubby has a shelf. This is exciting because I have not been working long enough to be depressed by cubicles and their trappings.

They've given you a number and taken away your name

At my new job, the clock-in procedure involves a fingerprint scan. You type in your numbers into a console and stick your index finger into the scanner, which reads the print, analyzes it and if you're not a spy, tells the gnomes in the payroll office to start sending cash toward your bank account. Sadly, it's sort of anticlimactic, since it just beeps and then you're on your way up the escalator to the office rather than a vault opening up somewhere and bad guys skulking behind you.

Granted, I've only done it a few times, so it might get old after a while, but every time I clock in or out, I feel a little bit awesome. I'm totally cut out to be a secret agent.