We Can't All Be Bookworms

As the semester draws to a close, I once again find myself reading like it's my job (and it is, I suppose). I was wisely advised, through second hand advice, to avoid the library during finals. We don't actually have finals, just continuing projects, and all the undergrads who spend most of their time swapping germs, no doubt (darn kids), are hanging about the library. Unfortunately, I refuse to use my heater. I spend lots of time in the library because they have to heat that. Why not benefit? My study habits aren't bad, I suppose, but I am so easily distracted. I like to hole myself away on the uppermost floor at tables that have small walls in the center. That way, each student gets his or her own private cubicle. Turns out, I love cubicles! I have chosen the wrong career. Honestly, I was missing the days back in first grade when I got the "fridge." It was a refrigerator box with one side cut off. You sat inside it, with the open end facing the board. I would kill for that again! I get so distracted.

Today, I holed up again in the remote top floor at one of the tables. Well, a couple was sitting on the other side of the wall and I have to figure they assumed the wall was sound proof. You don't need to discuss what you'll have for dinner when you know I am studying a foot from you. After the atrocious feminine half of the distracting duo left, he spent the next twenty minutes texting her. Yeah, his phone beeps every time he pushes a key. I had to leave. Boo for people who don't know how to handle a library. They are silent sanctuaries! Not a place for you to have long indepth discussions about if he'll call you, or if she's getting fatter.

I am thisclose to throwing out my TV so my flat can be my new silent sanctuary. Thisclose, but not actually going to do it.