I feel mean because I refused to type up Pink Lady's essay for her. It was only one page, but today is apparently needy patron day and I had to draw the line somewhere.

Pink Lady is one of my least favorite patrons, which is sad, since I should probably admire her. Today she's wearing a t-shirt with "rock star" in glittery letters and a pink bandana. (And, of course, a pink hoodie and pink shoes.) Her glasses are tinted pink, and her eyeshadow is better than I'm ever able to get my own. On top of all that, she's one of those amazing geriatric women who's gone back to school. (It's something like $5 a credit hour for people over age 65.) But she can't use the computer and doesn't want to learn and hasn't found an appropriate stooge (like a grandchild) to do it for her. So she expects us to instead--but we're strictly self-service. I encountered her often in that other library where I worked across the street... I didn't know she comes here, too.

So I wonder if I'll ever stop being a control freak long enough to get old and stop learning new technology, too...