an open letter to the person who keeps recalling every book about emily bronte held by fondren library:
i am attempting to prepare my presentation for the edinburgh conference next month, and you have made my recent visits to the library the equivalent of a visit to a public laundromat. every time i think i’m going to emerge with everything i need, i realize that i’ve lost a sock — or a reference book — to the great abyss.
please stop checking out every book i need, and please stop recalling the few books i’ve managed to hoarde in my apartment. i refuse to believe that you truly need these books, as it is june and you are probably not in class. i refuse to believe that you are truly interested in reading about the critical heritage of wuthering heights, ya know, just for fun. so unless you are a professor in the english department and therefore control some aspect of my career prospects, i hate you with the fire of a thousand suns.