Book-sniffer . . .

. . . is apparently my new nickname.

It all started yesterday. Towards the end of the day I was knee-deep in processing work, which basically means I was putting stickers and tape on books over and over and over, until I build up a healthy thickness to the skin on my fingertips (good for playing the guitar!).

As I whisked the cover off of one new book and tossed it on the pile to be laminated, I noticed that the book released a hint of that fresh new-book-scent. Paper and vinyl.

And I lifted the book to my nose, and sniffed it. "This book smells good!" I exclaimed.

My supervisor and the systems librarian were well within earshot, and that started them on a five-minute laughing spree. "Is that the good stuff, Heather? Are you an addict?"

Fast-forward to today. I am commenting to my supervisor on how great it is to have this job, since after spending about $4,000 per month of other people's money on books, my own desire to buy books is curbed. "And," I add with a wicked grin, "of course I get to sniff all the new books when they come in."

This sets them off laughing again, and the nearby work study assistant is bewildered. While I'm trying to explain the conversation from Thursday, my supervisor chimes in with "Heather has a book fetish!"

Which of course is right when the media guy comes around the corner. He stares at me. My supervisor repeats what she said. Media guy says, "I . . . don't think I'm coming over there," shakes his head, and walks away.

When the joke has finally run its course and I've wiped the tears from my eyes, I walk by the work study on my way to see if there are any donuts left.

". . . book-sniffer!" she whispers.

I smile. Such is life in the library near the end of the week.