The Library

In general, the library at Lancaster University isn’t a very comfortable place. Still, I spend many hours a week here, in various corners of the building which seem that day to be most inviting and intellectually stimulating. In fact, finding the right place to work is the most important part of the entire library experience, as the wrong atmosphere can prove altogether detrimental to the day’s ultimate productivity. I’ve often changed locations more than once in an effort to find the perfect spot. Just today I switched the chair in my cubicle with one of greater height and softer cushion. It made all the difference. I spend a good deal of time wandering around the floors, scanning the area for open tables and desks. The third floor is my favourite. A suitable seat shouldn’t be too near a window, since it’s generally most freezing there and the brightness is distracting. Also, the right spot should be a reasonable distance from other students. Sitting in a cubicle directly next to or across from another person is out of the question, since every small movement, every shuffle of paper, and every sniffle is magnified through the thin partitions. When I wrote my 15-page research paper I camped out with my textbooks and my laptop at a large table nestled in the Yellow Zone, Religion section of the third floor. The lighting was dim, the area far enough from the main quarter of the library to be soothingly calm. When I wrote my English 202 essay, the Yellow Zone table was taken by a group of students, so I searched and discovered an empty cubicle that sidled up to a wall and backed up to another cubicle where I stored by backpack and coat. There I typed furiously for two days, analyzing the poetry of Donne and Wroth. This is also where I ate my lunch. There is nothing worse than the rumbling of an empty stomach to disrupt the flow of an essay. So, I make my lunch every morning, and even sometimes the previous night, before a trip to the library. I’ve got Tupperware so my sandwich doesn’t get squished, and I generally pack brain food like apples and carrots and nuts. Sometimes I stop at the Central store on my walk and grab a soda for a caffeine boost or a piece of chocolate as a treat. Then, when I get hungry, I just whip out my lunch and keep on going. This is entirely illegal in a library where signs are posted on every wall and table about the prohibition on food and drink, but it’s this breaking of the rules that makes my ham sandwich taste better than ever. It’s pretty fabulous, in my opinion.
As I’m typing this and realizing just how much I plan for and ultimately enjoy my ventures to the library, I’m starting to think that this all might be a little… weird. Are you thinking, as you’re reading, that I’m totally insane? This is just what works for me, and I am happy to say that I’ve managed to settle into a routine here at Lancaster University in England, however modest or dull. I look forward to the feeling of accomplishment I get when I’ve spent a day working hard in the library. It means that I can spend my night making a delicious dinner to eat with my flatmates in the kitchen or watching episodes of Lost on my computer with Caroline. Sometimes I’m sensitive about my library routine, since I don’t think many other students here or at Gettysburg so enjoy this sort of regular practice like I do, and may even look down on people like me. But this—the library trips, the studying, the planning—it’s all a part of me that I can’t deny. This journal entry serves as a sort of declaration of self, a personal proclamation of unapologetic ‘nerdiness.’ The library at Lancaster University now feels comfortable and secure, like home. And that’s all I need right now.