My wonderful first boss at Regenstein Library at the University of Chicago was a librarian’s librarian. Her life was well curated and in perfect order, so I was a complete mystery to her. When I was running late and showed up for work dressed in cutoff shorts and a scarf I’d tied into a (sort-of) halter top, she sent me to the depths of the stacks for the afternoon, accompanied by a gentle suggestion that next time I should wear actual clothes.
When her car was in the shop—scheduled maintenance, I’m sure as it would not have dared to actually break down—I offered her a ride in my ancient VW, which was, for novelty’s sake, actually running that day. She was telling me a story about her cats as we got into the car.
By now, I’d worked for her long enough to know her cat stories were a definite…
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