I dropped the stack of books on the counter and sighed, "these are late, so I'll have a fine." As the librarian (a pleasant, older, matronly-looking gentlewoman) tallied up my total, I automatically and ruefully added, "I'm bad." She looked over, quirked one eyebrow, and (not unkindly) snarked, "library fines aren't exactly a moral issue. Just pay your fines and move on with your life."
So much for self-deprecation!
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Last night I had somewhat of a nightmare. The only part I can remember included overdue library books. When the greatest stress in your life, causing you to wake up in the middle of the night, sweating and nervous (yep, I'm a giant ball of guilt, even when nothing is wrong - just call me Carrie Bradshaw), is from overdue library books, I'd say that life is pretty good.
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