Library Jitters

One hour and fifteen minutes:
Hopefully, I'll make it. Right now, I'm wondering how mad the admin will get if they see sitting on the circ desk. Or even with my feet on the desk. I'm not sure I can sit still very much longer. I feel like a little kid on long car ride. Well, like anyone on a long car ride.

One hour and seven minutes:
I really don't like this chair. And I don't like Sartre either. It bothers me that I can see a certain amount of logic behind his arguement. I don't buy it. It only makes a certain amount of sense if are atheistic (at least what I've read so far). He bases his whole premise on there being no God; if I were to believe there wasn't a God, I do believe I could be an existentialist. Even if I can't say it.
I also don't like this font. It swims in front of my face. My glasses aren't really helping. And no, Brian, I don't care if that was "such a woman thing to say".

Thirty seven minutes:
Mrs. DeBell told me earlier that they've blocked MySpace, Facebook and YouTube on the computers in here. I don't know about the computers in the Anti-Coffee House. I'm hungry. And bored, which is why I'm writing this. Not because I need to vent, not to amuse anyone, but simply because I'm extremely bored. If I were on a car ride, I'd be singing 100 bottles of beer on the wall. Or maybe an Irish drinking song. If I didn't have to work, I'd be eating right now.
Why am I always hungry?

Twenty-Two Minutes:
Sartre is no longer advancing an arguement that is logical. Am I spelling arguement right? Eh, I don't feel like looking it up now. That's right. To anyone who might be reading this: I don't care enough about you to make sure that I'm spelling arguement correctly.

Six Minutes:
Yay! I can start signing out now! And singing out!