My day of shame:

To begin with you must understand the high regard I place on books, conditions of books, care of books, returning of books. I mind, like Epaminondous (a character in a picture book of my youth), very much about books, well he was minding how he stepped in the pies, but that is another story. That is what makes the following confession so difficult for me.

On Friday the staff at the GRC (Graduate Resource Centre aka library) allowed me to take the four volume set of the Dewey Decimal Classification 22 home for the weekend in order to complete an assignment. It was very generous of them, as these do not generally circulate. I was grateful, and promised to return them on Monday, as soon as I got back.

And so I brought them home and worked diligently on them all day on Saturday. In the evening, I decided to leave them exactly as I had them so I could begin work again Sunday morning. Also on the desk was a half full glass of water. At this point I need to digress and mention that recently my youngest daughter has returned home from PEI along with all of her belongings which includes a cat. I am not used to having an animal in the house. I honestly did not even think about the water on the desk. I was thinking about my assignment.

Sunday morning arrived and I came into the computer room thinking about breakfast, really, but turning on the computer so that it would be ready after I had eaten. That is when I noticed the glass turned on its side on the desk and one of the volumes (volume 4 - the index for those who like details) sitting in a pool of water - well, the water that it had not already absorbed.

I am a teacher. I have heard all of the excuses about various things eating the homework (and it is not always the dog. Surprisingly, many times younger siblings have been blamed). But here I was having to bring back a book and tell them the cat spilled the water. Truly mortifying.

The staff have been gracious. I have offered to pay. But still...

And then the crowning glory moment. I was so distracted, that when I went to the washroom after talking with the staff at the library, I opened the wrong door. Instead of the women's washroom, I opened the door to the men's (I also closed it immediately). In my defense, there are two sets of washrooms, and they are reversed. The ones I am used to has the women's on the right. I just decided to use the washroom that was closer to the library, and there the women's is on the left. But still...

Some days it does not pay to get out of bed. I am thinking this was one of them.

Peggy