there's a solitary man crying,

"dear internet," she began, in a pathetic attempt to make the reality less real by mocking it, "today i went to work."
she failed and she knew she had failed. but she wouldn't stop. she couldn't admit defeat. she couldn't admit that the internet was, in fact, her only friend.

and now that friend too had abandoned her.
now she must grovel. she must migrate from the temporary companionship of an office computer to the unfamiliar and unwelcoming wireless of the library. only to return home to the taunting solitude.
everything she thought of reminded her of something she could do with the internet. she must put it out of her head.

but it was too early to retire. she felt powerless. cutoff. and yet, she still couldn't bring herself to pay the $50/month to get her own wireless connection.

deep inside her, she knew one day soon she would.


...
last night linds and i closed down the library. (not hard to do thanks to the lame-o summer hours.) we didn't accomplish anything because as we entered we were asked to examine the new proposed chair for the library.
not only were they proposing a chair, they were asking us to fill out a survey.
not only were asking us to fill out a survey, they were offering to personally respond to us.
we couldn't resist.

we headed to the second floor, and looked to the right of the general reference desk. at last we found the box.
next to the sample chairs were a few of the current chairs. we dutifully tested both. trying each study pose we could think of.
at first i was put off by the lack of arm rests, but the sleek design, the surprising cushiness, the ability to lean back on two legs and (as linds pointed out) the ability to be wiped down and thereby promote hygiene won me over.
i gave it an "all in all i'm in favor" and emphatically requested a personal response.

i hope you will do your duty as a responsible citizen and try the chairs for yourself.
thank you.
and goodnight.