My job is far from being the coolest one in the world. I am a page at a library. My job is to put recently returned books back on the shelves, and to assist patrons with whatever they need help with. Most of the time, working at such a quiet place does get pretty boring. The quietness sometimes gets to me, but other times, I find comfort in the silence. But the silence does make force me to think sometimes. It gives me time to overanalyze various things in my life, and it gives me time to really notice my surroundings.
One of the things I often wonder about while working at the library is who has read the books that are there. Sometimes thinking about this makes me a little sad. I cannot help but see the amount of people looking through books about depression-- how they know if they have it, what can they do to cope with it or how they can help someone who has it. Or the people browsing books about how to get through the pain of a divorce and how they can make sure their kids are okay with it. There are also people who check out books about getting through an eating disorder, handling life with cancer, overcoming addictions, and dealing with the aftermath of a physical or sexual abuse.
Sometimes I wonder if people read these books for research or because they are going through something so terrible. Whenever I think it is the latter, I just want to reach out to them and tell them that it's all going to be okay, but I know that it's not really my place. So here I am now, writing this bulletin, hoping that those people who might be experiencing these problems might read this one day. I'm just that girl from the library who puts back the books that you browse through, but I know that you'll be okay.
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