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The Waiting Room
We had a dealer up from New York yesterday to evaluate a collection of 350 books and letters. I felt like I spent the day in a hospital waiting room — tick-tock.
Jim and I expected to be sitting with Erik all day, answering questions and pulling books from shelves for him. But we were so well-prepared that he didn't need us. (We've both been in major obsessive-compulsive mode for days, preparing for this.)
So neither of us knew what to do with ourselves. We hovered. Funny, we couldn't relax. We set up our new shredder and tackled the mountain of ancient tax returns we dug out from under Jim's desk. But the little machine would only tolerate so much before it overheated and demanded a rest. I also poked away at correcting broken links on my website. Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
The visit went smoothly overall. Erik was pleased with the quality of the books. Still it was a relief to take him to the airport at the end of the day. We went out to dinner, ate too much and wound ourselves out of the day.
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