October 30, 1991

My biggest concern today is the result of last night's Finance Committee meeting.  Right now I'm pretty resigned to the fact none of the library's decision items will be approved.  What I fear is the slash-and-burn mentality that Tim described last week.  I am relieved to discover no cuts reflected in the minutes.  Tim reports that the committee spent its time reviewing the capital budget.

"How do you think the library's request would have fared had it not been withdrawn?"

"I'm not sure what they would have approved," he responds.  "That's something you can't do without."

But who knows what will happen next year if Tom Ullsvik decides not to run for re-election.

I pick up Andy at daycare and fix a spaghetti supper.

October 23, 1991

I meet with Pete Hamon, Julie and Phyllis at the SCLS office to review Pete's draft of the "sugar daddy" alternative to automation.  After about two hours of discussion, Julie works herself up into a lather over Pete's alleged used-up credibility.  He reacts as though he's just been punched in the stomach.  Automation planning seems to do strange things to people.

The afternoon at Middleton is uneventful.  At 5, I make an appearance at the Finance Committee meeting to withdraw the capital budget request, which better not turn out to be premature, and make a plea for the library's decision items.

I pick up Andy at daycare.  About 9 or so, I fix myself a deluxe burger and then veg out for the rest of game 4 of the World Series.

October 21, 1991

Back to a normal routine after three days on cloud nine last week.

As a result of the domino-theory rumors regarding automation funding, a call to Tom Ullsvik is high on my list of things to do.  I still sense that I have his support, though I have no idea how that will translate into dollars by the time the 1992 budget is finalized.  In regards to an unrelated issue, he suggests that I attend the City Hall Building Committee meeting later in the day to address the need for a clear picture as to what the library's role will be in the temporary relocation of staff.  The consensus is that the meeting room will be used for council and committee meetings.

After supper I take Andy shopping for a Halloween costume.  We find a Turtle outfit, but not with Michaelangelo colors.  Only Donatello is available in his size, and I convince him that it's the best choice.  I also buy him a "laser" sword, which gives him such a charge that by the next morning the batteries are already dead.

Does this guy have a hole in his memory or what?  Back to a normal routine?  Not until I have to deal with a dead car battery, wait for a truck from a nearby service station stop by to give me a jump, drive Andy to daycare since JoAnna wanted to get to work early.  Andy must not have closed the passenger door all the way after returning from his trip to Marshall Park with Auntie Barbara and Eddie.  And of course Barb would never know to check.  Two more months.  At least I'm plugging for a pre-Christmas release.

October 14, 1991

Not a restful night.  I think it's my deep-seated frustration over the budget process this year.

At work, Liz and I have a spirited discussion over collection development priorities.  Right now we're looking at a no-increase budget for 1992.

I spend the afternoon printing copies of my reference bibliography and laboring over Wednesday's acceptance speech.  On the walk home, I consider a marriage analogy in referring to staff, but the Thomas hearing circus makes that seem inappropriate   Then I remember a key phrase I mentally filed away a few days ago:  "The best of times, the worst of times".

October 8, 1991

I spend the morning at home, reading, taping, wishing Barb weren't here so this house could give up its dormitory feel.  The countdown is now under the three-month mark.

The furnace guy stops by around 11.  He discovers a dangerously plugged-up unit.  That tongue of flame I discovered at the end of last year's heating season was due to a clogged flue.

I don't have a very productive afternoon; I'm too busy thinking about how my presentation to the Finance Committee will go.  I get my points across, but my gut feeling is that this is not a year for staff increases.  

The board meets at 6, and the major agenda item is the endowment policy.  The rest of the evening is relatively slow.

I read and watch the last few innings of the AL playoff game once I get home.

September 11, 1991

John delivers his line graphs earlier than usual.  Last night I noticed that the chest hairs that peak out of his undershirt are as gray as mine.  That makes sense.  We're both class of '68.  I quickly make the necessary revisions and photocopies and deliver 8 copies of the ambitious document -- total decision items requests:  $47,000 -- to Joel.

The afternoon is rather calm.  Chris makes an appearance, looking , as usual, as though he spent too much time on recharge.  He's basically in and out, much to my relief.

I pick up Andy at daycare.  JoAnna returns home at 6:30 and we eat supper -- round steak that has enjoyed a day-long crockpot soak in two cans of cream of mushroom soup-- together at the kitchen table.

August 21, 1991

After a telephone conversation with Tom Ullsvik, I am walking on air, I can barely contain my elation.  Tom has no problem with the automation capital expenditure.  He feels the support of the Finance Committee is there.  He also asks about decision items, so I give him a preview of the library's 1992 budget proposal and even throw in a few justifications here and there.  His comment, "You have a great story to tell" stays with me all day.  John Westbury and I meet with Liz Erpenbach in the afternoon and she, too, is supportive.

I pick up Andy and then rush back to the library to spend my second evening in a row at the reference desk.  Once I'm home and in bed, I have trouble falling asleep.  The phone jars me awake at 2:20.  A security system malfunction.  I'm lucky to remember to put on a pair of pants before I leave.  Still half-asleep, I attempt to clear the 09 code, to no avail.  I lay in bed awake for most of the rest of the night.