By now most people will have experienced that the issue of dealing with the Bill Bryson library’s mobile shelving units are at the limit of what an individual can go through and still emerge with one’s soul and spirit in an approximate state of equilibrium. It is therefore my contention that lest we want to risk ending up with a highly suicidal student population, it is absolutely imperative that steps be made to remedy the massive impact the so-called mobile shelves have on our mental health.
The first step in this process is to provide naturally to provide a theoretical framework can be used to understand the ways in which these machines of death and destruction wreak havoc with our psyche. In this case we apply Elisabeth Kübler-Ross’ model of the five stages of grief, for the nonce ignoring the fact that this model is too speculative and vaguely defined to be of actual use in understanding grief and trauma, and that many of its assumptions has been refuted by subsequent research. Below follows a first-person description of these stages that will help you to understand what you’re going through.
Stage 1: Denial. It’s going to be fine, I’ll just keep pushing these buttons and shelves will part and let me through. I mean, even Moses had to try a few times before the Red Sea parted? Oh, when you push buttons in this order it almost sounds like the 70s synth classic ‘Popcorn‘. Haha. Why are everyone looking at me with murder in their eyes?
Stage 2: Anger. Why won’t the bloody shelves move?! AAARGH! MY FURY WILL STRIKE DOWN ON THIS LIBRARY LIKE THE HAMMER OF THOR! THE THUNDER OF MY VENGEANCE SHALL ECHO THROUGH THESE CORRIDORS LIKE THE GUST OF A THOUSAND WINDS! I
Stage 3: Bargaining. Just move. Please. If you let me through, I promise I’ll not log onto Netflix nor have a single beer before all my assignments are done. Please, I beg you. I’ll give up my firstborn if you would just move.
Stage 4: Depression. Oh what cruel world! You lure me into this institution with the promise of wisdom and skill, and having sacrificed my future, my savings and my pride in order to enter this sacred temple of knowledge I find that it is naught but a mirage. I am met with a wall of cruelty that leaves my soul as desolate and barren as a desert; with every promise of a refreshing breeze only whirling sand into my eyes and salt into my gaping wounds. I would have cried but there are no tears left. *assumes the fetal position*
Stage 5: Acceptance. All perceived motion in the universe can also be seen as movement within the self; therefore it is not the movement of the shelves I seek, but the progress of my own soul. There is no purpose standing here, I’m going to have a cup of green tea instead.