Great things come from shelving

Part of my work bio is to tell people, "be good to your shelvers; great things come from shelving." As a freshman at Virginia Tech, my best friend Kim told me to apply at the library for a shelving job. Somewhere in all that application process, I also interviewed for a job at VTIC, the corporate equivalent of interlibrary loan in the library (filling article requests for legal firms and other for-profit institutions). They were both jobs in the library, but very different in terms of what I did during my shifts. First, VTIC would only give me six or seven hours a week to work. Since I was a poor college student, I wanted to work the maximum of 20, so I was supplementing with the shelving job. VTIC also had all students perform the same tasks and gave out raises based on time served. You answered the phone, took messages, pulled and photocopied articles. I still remember they wouldn't let us students update items as filled on the OCLC Passport software because it was "too hard". This is super ironic since I now support the software that replaced Passport.

Shelving on the other hand was a brave new frontier of student employment. No one cared what you wore (the books don't care how you're dressed), you could change shifts to any other time the library was open versus only working 8-5 Monday-Friday and you could wear headphones while you worked. Man, I still remember the tragedy of showing up to a four hour shift to discover the batteries on my Walkman had died. That was a long shift.

I kept both jobs just to keep my options open. I had left Engineering in favor of Communication Studies after only one semester (much to my father's dismay) and I remember my parents hypothesizing that the VTIC job would have better avenues for employment since it was an office job versus just shelving books.

But shelving had tiers of employees. If you were responsible and clueful, you could become a Team Leader, assigning your fellow students to certain floors or cart assembling duties. And they also had a very small number of Student Assistants that worked in the office (sitting down!) doing various bits of paper work, shelf reading and administrative things. Ooh, and Irene provided snacks for us all during our shifts!

I remember the money was pretty even between the two jobs. Team Leader shifts earned me slightly more but I think the VTIC position was $0.10 more an hour. Granted, VTIC would only give me a paltry six hours a week, so woohoo! $1 more a week.

There was another student working in VTIC who was about to graduate. The VTIC boss lady promised me when he left she would allow me to work up to 15 hours a week and maybe even 20 on occasion. And, she'd give me a $0.50 raise so I've be making more like $4.75/hour. This seemed promising.

I didn't think I'd ever get a Student Assistant job in shelving, so I figured I had maxed out my career path in that department. I wouldn't be able to work both jobs really, so I decided I was going to quit shelving and work for VTIC only. I was sad to leave my buddies in that department, but since I was planning on staying in town that summer, I needed to have steady employment.

I went to my shelving shift and started assembling carts in circulation (side note: taking random books off the shelves and assembling them in LC call number order on a well-made wooden cart with two stationary wheels and two swivel wheels will forever be a zen sort of calming thing for me). The whole time I worked, my stomach churned over having to go talk to my boss and tell him I was quitting. But I knew shelving required a 10 hour minimum of work each week and I wouldn't be able to do that and VTIC. And there was that extra $0.50 an hour to consider.

Towards the end of my shift, Bossman walked up behind me. Always a man of few words, he said something to the effect of, "I'm creating a new student assistant position and wanted to know if you were interested in it. You wouldn't do shelving anymore but would work in the office on statistics and other projects. It pays $6/hour and you can work up to 20 hours a week if you want."

I nearly fell off my stool. I immediately accepted and gleefully told VTIC the next day I was quitting. I worked in shelving the rest of that year and moved over to interlibrary loan with Bossman to be his student assistant there. I coded my first program (the shelf labels that are still adorning Newman Library stacks today) and I shadowed Bossman everywhere. When he eventually left to start his own software company, I got his old job as the programmer in interlibrary loan (salary with benefits!) and continued to work for him part time. Only two years after that, I left Virginia Tech to work for him at that little software company where I still work today.

Needless to say, I make more than $4.75/hour and can work as many hours as I want. So like I said in the beginning, be good to your shelvers; great things come from shelving.

Risks and rewards

I have been taking a lot of vitamins lately. I take three huge fish oil pills a day along with 6000 IU of vitamin D a day. Then there's the 6 multi-vitamin/nutrients and the 1500mg of tryptophan (I didn't even know that came in pill form!). My witch doctor claims that these can help with my anxiety. He didn't say I should stop taking Zoloft but suggested that they might help me wean off of it if I wanted. He said that Zoloft can have side effects for some people like weight gain or decreased sex drive. I told him I just assumed those were the side effects of parenthood.

So I thought I would give it a try. Mind you, taking five pills three times a day is a giant pain in the ass compared to one tiny little pill at bed time. It's also a lot more pricey. But I wanted to see if it would make any difference.

I took the pills for two weeks or so to build up in my system. Then on the third week I cut my Zoloft back from 50mg a day to 25mg. I remember taking the 25mg over a year ago and feeling much better so it should still help, right?

Whoo, boy, I'm back on the 50mg regimen again! I have had more late night stomach aches this last week than in the last year. I had actually forgotten what they felt like and thought I was getting sick. And last night I stupidly tried to convince our toddler that he might could go back to bed without nursing since I'm a little sore. After 20 minutes we were both crying inconsolably. Never again. He can nurse until he leaves for college as far as I'm concerned. Just don't cry like that anymore.

I'm hoping to feel more like myself (or whatever version of myself is the Z me I've grown to love) in a few days. I might talk to my doctor about cutting back Zoloft again when it's sunnier outside. But the churning in my stomach is not the way I'd like to lose a few pounds and crying all night doesn't really increase my sexual appetite (the snotty face and puffy eyes are a real cock block). The risks outweigh any potential rewards right now.

Waiting for Daddy

When my father was around 7 years old, his brother and some other kids on the farm caught a possum. They had been trying to catch the possum to keep it out of the chicken coop and were finally successful. Possums are nocturnal animals and while they put on a big show, they aren't nearly as vicious as they look. They hiss or squawk, and the act of "playing possum" makes their lips curl back and their mouth foam, but they're not really going to mess you up.

When you're 7, though, and your 12 year old brother is carrying around this wild animal it seems like things are about to get out of control and very fast. He was convinced they should wait for my grandfather to get back from the field so he could handle this fierce creature. My father fretted around calling out "Wait 'til Daddy come! Wait 'til Daddy come!"

(Note that in an East Carolina accent Daddy is actually pronounced Detty, so it's more like "Wait teal Detty come!")

My uncle teased my father for years after that. Anytime something happened that spooked him, Uncle Curtis would squeal "Wait 'til Daddy come!" It obviously made an impression since my Daddy told me this story 50 years after the fact.

My brother and I don't tease each other, but we both occasionally have moments of waiting 'til Daddy come. I know this has annoyed Rich in the past when I obviously am counting on my father's opinion to help guide me. But now that we have a child of our own, I hope that for many years Ian will look to his own father for what to do, even well into adulthood.

I hope that all of you have someone you can turn to for difficult decisions, or at least to dispose of the pesky possums of your life.