How It Is- Dear Library Lady

Dear Library Lady,

Yeah, I'm talking to you.

Giving me that look as if I've lost your Dictionary.

You can't even check those out.

The joke's on YOU, Library Lady.

Every afternoon, 12:30 on the dot, you try to make it look like you're shelving books.

But I know better than that Library Lady.

Creeping over my shoulder as I log online.

That's right, Library Lady. I'm onto you.

Just because I check Yahoo, and Twitter, and Facebook, (while typing up my papers) doesn't mean I'm hurting anybody.

 Nobody is waiting for their turn. There isn't a huge line.

Unless you count the huge line of EMPTY COMPUTERS right next to me.

So why, Library Lady, do you have such a huge problem with the fact that I come in here every day?
 How does me, printing copies of short stories and books that I've written hurt you in any way?

I pay ten cents per page for my right to make copies. I know my rights, you Copy Nazi.

You might want to take a pill, Library Lady, because you're looking a bit low on toner.

You know what I think, Library Lady? I think you need a hug. That's right, I think maybe you just don't get enough love from your cats, and you need a snugly sweater to make everything better.

 (But for the love of all that is GOOD AND HOLY, please not the Christmas one you're wearing with the little bells glued on it. Soemone call 911, because Hobby Lobby aparantly just vomited and DIED.)
Don't expect a hug from me. No ma'am. No way. Not gonna happen.

Because, until you turn that frown upside-down, (and that swater inside out), you're on your own.

Because Some people just don't know how to have a good day.
Because if you're going to read my tweets, you might as well save your time and just follow me.
Because I'm going to print this article. JUST BECAUSE I CAN.

Because that's just How It Is.

p.s. If you're going to read my stuff as often as you do, you could at least help me out with some spell check, amiright?