Two roads diverged.

We went and updated our library cards this week. We still had our old ones from when we used to live here, but the librarian shredded those and now we have shiny new ones to match our shiny new address. I remembered a few books that I had been wanting to read (this was quite an accomplishment, because I tend to walk in a library or bookstore and go totally blank, as if I have never heard of any books ever), so I went ahead and checked them out, and when we got home, I transported a bunch of books from my “to read” list into my library account so that I can look them up when I am at the library. Yay for technology! (I do wish they had email notification, though.)

I felt a little bit lost as I wandered the stacks, being on the “patron” side of the public library, not having access to all the new stuff right away. I like what I do now, but I miss knowing all the new books. I keep tossing around the idea that I should get a subscription to Library Journal just so I can read the reviews (and the articles, but I love the reviews). I love book reviews. They may be one of my vices. I am addicted to them. And there are other book review sources, but Library Journal is the Bible of book reviews as far as I am concerned.

Oddly enough, the day after we went to the library, I ended up back at my old library, visiting my old book club and the people I used to work with. They all asked me if I miss them, and I do. I was comfortable there, and happy, and of course I miss the people and the excitement (libraries can be exciting places, too) and knowing what was going on. I got home that night and cried a little bit about it (there are also big boxes full of our new cabinets in our living room, we have no floors in our kitchen, and our air conditioner was rattling, so I had lots of reasons for crying . . . can you say DISASTER ZONE?). I am happy with the road I chose. In fact, I think I have experienced more contentment and rest in the past month than I can remember in a long time. But it is okay to miss some things about my old life, too, and I feel blessed to be able to say that I do.

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