Library

So I was at the Library in Noblesville getting some reading material and music to get me through the first few weeks of summer. While I was checking out, I thought that the lady at the checkout place was judging me by my choice of books and music. I feel like she thought I was a lost soul, depressed, and borderline suicidal. My charming mix of atheist nonfiction, Sylvia Plath poetry and her biography as well as a smattering of Steinbeck. I wonder if she was sad for me because she thought I was so sad and depressed. I love Sylvia Plath, I'm not depressed, I don't want to kill myself, and the librarian can keep her emotional yet judgmental glances for someone else.