It's the bane of my life at the moment.
Nothing I seem to do can make the library secure because I have firemen telling me that I can't lock any of our exits. This old library has had too many extensions done, which means that there are more corners than the hall of mirrors and there is no money in our budget for surveillance.
There is the constant trill about the place of people opening fire doors and by the time staff work out which door it was there is no one to be seen. On top of this our courtyard gates need to be unlocked (for emergency exits) so anyone can wander out with whatever book they like.
Despite this we are still buying security tags for the books and getting the technicians in to fix the book theft alarms on the front door.
The latest problem occurred over the weekend but wasn't picked up till Monday morning. Someone had levered off the coinbox on the copier in our local studies room.
Now this wouldn't have been an easy task. They must have done it when we were open as there was no alarm overnight. They would have needed a screwdriver and some significant force to get the thing to open
And they would have got about $2 if they were lucky.
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The rants and howls of a librarian, blessed by by Bacchus with the gift of ADHD.
About Me
- ADHD Librarian
- I am a librarian who is currently having a slight career deviation. Having spent my career in public and academic libraries I moved into a high school to repair a long neglected school library. That done (well, more or less) I got myself a dip ed & slipped sideways into the classroom, although I am still the librarian too.
Email Me
adhd dot librarian at gmail dot com
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What could be more important for you right now then reading my crazy rants?
Warning
As I see the world through ADHD coloured glasses, this blog contains dangerously high levels of Confabulation.
The stories I tell all have an element of truth to them, but then all of the best lies start with a grain of truth and then slowly build a large black pearl of deception around that grain.
Or, so I hear.
Indeed, due to the passage of time and the fact that I don't pay attention when people are talking (and therefore, in order to be fair, I also don't pay attention when I'm talking), even I can't remember which parts of the stories I tell are fact and which are fiction. Therefore, if you are reading this and think that you recognise yourself in one of the posts, please consider everything you read to be nothing more than my attempt to make others think I'm important, honest I don't really think you are a gormless twat, or at least no more than I generically think that anyone who isn't me is somehow slightly less important than a brain damaged gnu.
Posts on this blog are not researched, edited, nor indeed even thought out in advance. I write in stream of consciousness, partially because I love the beat generation 'vibe' man and partially because even if I write out a plan and then do a draft, I end up going somewhere else entirely by the time I'm half way through. Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit! And while you're digesting this share a thought for the poor distressed kiddies who have ever sat through one of my adlib Red Riding Hood inspired puppet shows at storytime or one of the mature aged students who has had to cope with my performance based introduction to library resources lectures complete with jokes, pratfalls and a big dance finale.
Warning
As I see the world through ADHD coloured glasses, this blog contains dangerously high levels of Confabulation.
The stories I tell all have an element of truth to them, but then all of the best lies start with a grain of truth and then slowly build a large black pearl of deception around that grain.
Or, so I hear.
Indeed, due to the passage of time and the fact that I don't pay attention when people are talking (and therefore, in order to be fair, I also don't pay attention when I'm talking), even I can't remember which parts of the stories I tell are fact and which are fiction. Therefore, if you are reading this and think that you recognise yourself in one of the posts, please consider everything you read to be nothing more than my attempt to make others think I'm important, honest I don't really think you are a gormless twat, or at least no more than I generically think that anyone who isn't me is somehow slightly less important than a brain damaged gnu.
Posts on this blog are not researched, edited, nor indeed even thought out in advance. I write in stream of consciousness, partially because I love the beat generation 'vibe' man and partially because even if I write out a plan and then do a draft, I end up going somewhere else entirely by the time I'm half way through. Visions! omens! hallucinations! miracles! ecstasies! the whole boatload of sensitive bullshit! And while you're digesting this share a thought for the poor distressed kiddies who have ever sat through one of my adlib Red Riding Hood inspired puppet shows at storytime or one of the mature aged students who has had to cope with my performance based introduction to library resources lectures complete with jokes, pratfalls and a big dance finale.
Today's Unshelved