Sascha Connolly, Ph.D. (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bohemiarhapsody) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} nosuchtimes, |
OOC: In which Sascha throws a mental hissy fit XD
Sascha hated the circulation desk. Hated wasn't even the right word for it, really: despised, detested, loathed, even. He loved books and he liked people, so it should have been the perfect marriage of ideals for him, but for one reason or another, it wasn't. Movement had been a key component of his classes back at the university; he was always moving around the classroom, moving at the chalkboard, moving out amongst his seated students- hell, on nice days he'd move the students outside for lectures and discussion. Being limited to essentially one area of the library like this was something akin to a desk job, and his mind just didn't function that way. Stillness and solitude were great when he was writing, but when he was teaching, when he was learning, when he was working...he needed motion. At the circulation desk, he felt like a statue.
And somehow he always ended up at the circulation desk, much like he was now. Granted, he'd only been working at the library for a couple of weeks and knew relatively little about some of the magical literature and resources that many of the patrons had requested, but he was plenty knowledgeable about other literary topics. He'd rather be answering questions at the Reference Desk or shelving books in the massive stacks, because at least then he'd feel like he was actually doing something. He had a fucking Ph.D, for crying out loud! Inspecting the books in the return bin for missing pages and torn bindings was practically boring him to tears!
Sascha's current mental tantrum had kept him so preoccupied that he didn't even notice the pretty brunette who had approached the desk. He also didn't notice the flash of obvious recognition in her eyes or the name whispered in astonished disbelief. The loud fwapclumpTHUD of the books hitting the floor shattered the heavy silence blanketing the building, and only then did Sascha's head snap up from the pile of books in front of him. He blinked at the woman in surprise for a few moments before courtesy kicked in, and he rounded the edge of the desk to retrieve the fallen items.
"Someone's eyes are bigger than her maximum carrying capacity, I see," he teased with a smile as he knelt beside her, assuming she'd just stacked the pile too high and lost the battle with gravity. One of the titles caught his eye, and he cocked an eyebrow in curiosity as he held the material up for her to see. "Journal of Applied Ichthyology?"
Sascha hated the circulation desk. Hated wasn't even the right word for it, really: despised, detested, loathed, even. He loved books and he liked people, so it should have been the perfect marriage of ideals for him, but for one reason or another, it wasn't. Movement had been a key component of his classes back at the university; he was always moving around the classroom, moving at the chalkboard, moving out amongst his seated students- hell, on nice days he'd move the students outside for lectures and discussion. Being limited to essentially one area of the library like this was something akin to a desk job, and his mind just didn't function that way. Stillness and solitude were great when he was writing, but when he was teaching, when he was learning, when he was working...he needed motion. At the circulation desk, he felt like a statue.
And somehow he always ended up at the circulation desk, much like he was now. Granted, he'd only been working at the library for a couple of weeks and knew relatively little about some of the magical literature and resources that many of the patrons had requested, but he was plenty knowledgeable about other literary topics. He'd rather be answering questions at the Reference Desk or shelving books in the massive stacks, because at least then he'd feel like he was actually doing something. He had a fucking Ph.D, for crying out loud! Inspecting the books in the return bin for missing pages and torn bindings was practically boring him to tears!
Sascha's current mental tantrum had kept him so preoccupied that he didn't even notice the pretty brunette who had approached the desk. He also didn't notice the flash of obvious recognition in her eyes or the name whispered in astonished disbelief. The loud fwapclumpTHUD of the books hitting the floor shattered the heavy silence blanketing the building, and only then did Sascha's head snap up from the pile of books in front of him. He blinked at the woman in surprise for a few moments before courtesy kicked in, and he rounded the edge of the desk to retrieve the fallen items.
"Someone's eyes are bigger than her maximum carrying capacity, I see," he teased with a smile as he knelt beside her, assuming she'd just stacked the pile too high and lost the battle with gravity. One of the titles caught his eye, and he cocked an eyebrow in curiosity as he held the material up for her to see. "Journal of Applied Ichthyology?"