Caught Between 2 Worlds

So here I am now with one foot still in the library and one foot out the
door trying to make my jewelry business a successful enterprise. The
library is changing AGAIN. In my 37 years here it has evolved several
times. But this has to be the biggest change requiring not only departmental reorganization but major building renovations. We are now a destination. Our lower level, once home of technical services and reference is now The Learning Commons. Not only is there a reference presence but also a desk manned by Learning Commons staff who help with computer related issues. We're quickly canceling paper subscriptions and spending a larger and larger portion of our shrinking budget on electronic resources. And more floor space is being utilized for computer tables and wired group study rooms.

The plan is to eventually move us to a section of the floor where we'll have a view of the courtyard gardens. I've worked in windowless space my entire career here. My new space will provide me with actual sunlight. They've promised to move us in January. I'll be retiring in June.

Until then, my office is caught between areas of construction. They're
putting up a wall about 15 feet from my desk and the drilling is
intermittent all day long. I have my ear buds plugged into Pandora and
today I listened to Josh Groban. On the plus side he keeps my blood
pressure from getting too high. Unfortunately, I can't hear the phone if it rings.

I occasionally doodle little pictures and write down notes as ideas come to me for jewelry designs or displays. Ideas seem to come from odd places--the colors of the binding on a new encyclopedia or a group of spines sitting together on the gift shelves. Right now I'm creating very few things. It's craft fair season and my focus is always on the next show. Should I feature the high end pieces or the lower priced items, or both. Should I bring the valances to make the tent look more homey. Do I have enough boxes? Most days I can't wait to get home and away from the noise to the silence of my jewelry workbench.