The Library Hates Me

I went to the Princeton Public Library today in order to get out some books about bookbinding. "Why?" you ask. Well, the answer is simple, I want to learn how to make and repair books. Another why? Just think of the artistic gift-giving potential. I love books, I love paper, I love photos... I'm starting to drool thinking of all the possibilities.

Anyway, I arrived at the library after a fruitful trip to the Lindt store and a fruitless trip to the closed-for-Columbus-Day Post Office, only to find that the books I wanted, which the catalog claimed were on the shelf, were, in fact, missing. Two lovely librarians tried to help by looking through the books yet needing to be reshelved, but alas, there was no finding these books.

I'm sorely tempted to go on and just buy some books, but I know that such a venture would not only be an affront to my nigh on empty wallet, but I also might purchase worthless books that will be of little help in my quest to develop a new skill set.

I guess I should look at the bright side. Even if I got the books I wanted, and started learning fun new things, I wouldn't have the money or time to really pursue this new interest. Perhaps it's providential that I was unable to find much tinder for my new desire.

Woe woe. Alas, alack.
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