Mon, Feb. 9th, 2015

ellasomething: Ella. Duh. (Photo Booth)

Silly as I feel having to write on this topic, it has become necessary. Apparently.

Libraries are inherently quiet spaces people come to expecting the aforementioned quiet, as opposed to, you know, talking. Out loud. To your friends. About the party you attended last weekend.

I can completely relate with wanting to socialise and with the need for a study break to oxygenate that big brain of yours, but for the love of all that's holy—and you know by this I mean cake—go have your giggly discussion about Jell-o shots somewhere else that is not my library.

What happened to the good ol' days of shushing people without getting a gaggle of prissy privileged undergrads glaring at you in disbelief for daring to interrupt? It occurred to me as I was heading towards the Quiet Study Area (in my day, the entire library was a quiet study area, but my geriatric notions of public spaces are clearly outmoded) that, purely by coincidence, the culprits this time around were my direct peers, meaning from my year and major, who should be freaking out just as much as I am about the forthcoming deadline on Wednesday for our thesis proposals. Clearly, I am very much alone in this sinking boat of mine.

I adore libraries in part precisely due to the quietude that is vehemently expected from its patrons by its patrons. If I'm on the receiving end of fewer distractions in my dormitory room than here, then you just know the entire place is going to hell in a hand-basket.

Next time, on what's wrong with the world...

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