"Pack em Up and Move em Out"

is a catchy little tune from an old Strawberry Shortcake movie that my little sister absolutely loved and used to watch over and over and over again (among other Strawberry Shortcake cartoons~she was a Shortcake fanatic that one) until i (accidentally, mind you) recorded over her tape with some Days of Our Lives episodes (yes, that addiction is twenty-five years old~thank you very much). My sister still remembers this~nor will she ever let me forget it (tho she does not remember the cartoons i erased~perhaps my penance is the fact that whenever i am moving, putting things into boxes, or in any way starting a new kind of venture i can't get that damn song out of my head~tho i must admit, i do kind of like it...)

Which brings me to the subject of today's post: i've been assigned to another library. Imagine that.

I was late on my very first day of work because Demetra, dear that she is, decided to somehow get herself stuck in the basement wall (something my mother claims is impossible because it is a solid concrete wall and i claim is possible just by the very fact that she did it). I fed the cats this morning, the sound of which usually brings all three running, but didn't (should have clued me into something, but didn't) Then, just before i'm to leave for work, i hear i big crashing noise from the basement; i do a quick head count and start calling for the littlest brat. When she makes no appearance, i venture into the deepest dark, see ceiling tiles on the floor and hear feline cries from above and beyond.

So i crawl atop the perilously stacked piles of stuff and call her name, locate her inside "the solid concrete wall" (just her tiny head and paws are visible) and try to coax her out. She just cries piteously. So i try to help her. This provokes hisses. Eventually she moves further back which leads me to the conclusion that she is not horribly broken and is just trying to ruin my "first day impression". So i decide to go to work and check back on her on my lunch hour (which of course leaves me with periodic guilt pangs throughout the day).

I go home on my lunch hour and there is no black and white cat to greet me, just more crying from the basement. Once i find a stool to try and extricate her she decides to remove herself, after who-knows-how-many hours and for what. I must of course cut my hour short because i was late at the beginning of the day. She is very hungry because she's been hanging out in the wall all day (somehow she seems to act like this is my fault). She appears entirely uninjured. And so it goes... just a little feline interlude for the first day at the new job.

So, here, i am, in my new, smaller, closer to home, (further from any junior-high-school) oddly quiet library, alone at the reference desk (hmmm... somehow that feels a bit familiar...) wondering what to do with myself (well, not really...)

it all feels...

just a bit...eerie... really