I wonder why the quiet at the library is so much more peaceful than the quiet at home.  In terms of actual “quietude” the library is, believe it or not, far more noisy.  There are people shifting in their seats, people coughing, sighing, whispering conversations to each other (last week I listed to two girls get very creative with their use of the word “bitch” instead of, um, working) and getting directions to books from the librarian.  Carts trundle past, clothes rustle and it’s pretty much a cacophony of “sshhh!”  in here.  At home there is the sound of my typing and every once in a while the cat will sneeze and that’s about it.  Perhaps the refrigerator will hum extra loudly for a second.  But somehow, that quiet does not really lend itself to thinky thoughts the way the library does.

By the way: I have all but tossed out my ability to do serious work in a coffee shop–at least the ones I go to.  I love hanging out in the Starbucks up on….whatever the street is before the Max turnaround and at the Seattle’s Best on 6th and somewhere near Hall but those are, without a doubt, college coffee shops so the level of noise and bustle is pretty high.  So I usually spend my time in there reading blogs and daydreaming.

Do I need to even tell you that I talked myself into coming downtown with Will again today (this time it was totally my idea)?  I’m starting to get spoiled on the library here peeps.  I’m very close to buying a monthly transit pass (next month ’cause this month’s are all sold out) and coming here every damned day.  I am strung out on the out of the houseness.  It makes me almost want to get a regular job. Except then I’d have to, you know, work on stuff instead of waxing poetic about the library and coffee shops and downtown.  Though I have been daydreaming about going back to work for a bookstore if for no other reason than the ability to read new releases without having to either a) sit on a wait list at the library for forever or b) get stared at by employees who are thinking “seriously you’ve sat there for six hours, just buy the damned book already!”  (I know they think that because that’s what I used to think of people who would come in, sit down and read through a whole book without buying it.  I now have more sympathy for the shopper.)