Swine flu* is just so passé. All the cool kids have library-itis.
Its onset can be insidious. You can have a library card for years, lurking in a drawer or making your wallet a little snugger than you’d like, but never take it out or even think about it. But when you come into close contact with a person suffering from library-itis – especially an advanced case – you’re probably going to catch it, too.
This is what happened to my unsuspecting sister. I told her about the joys of requesting books on line, how you follow their progress as you move to the head of the line, the thrill of seeing “In Transit” when you check your holds (as you do, at least once a day), and how picking them up for free is like getting a present.
Now, I went home and requested thirty books as soon as I got my shiny new card (which my sister tells me is a parvenu tourist card, whereas hers, though much less pretty, is a long time local resident’s, which clearly has much more Coast cred), and my sister only requested a half dozen or so, but she was just as excited when she learned she had three waiting for her.
She left for work early in order to pick up her books, and I kindly gave her some of mine to return. This evening, she called me on a break at work to tell me that she actually had four to pick up. Oh, and she had returned my books.
There is no known cure.
*Sorry, powers that be: “H1 N1”, as a term, is never going to catch on. It’s just like make-up: it’s more fun (and memorable) to be Cherries in the Snow than Number 42. Except for Chanel Number Five