I’m getting increasing more efficient in shlepping books around, so much so that I am taking tomorrow, Sunday, off, and I may in the future take other Sundays off. Imagine that.

It does pain me that I work harder than most people I know, yet I don’t get paid for what I do. I know of people who do get paid, and for this reason never work beyond their paid hours. They don’t punch a clock – they have an inner time clock. Out the door they go.

Volunteers are the same way – they determine how much time they have to give, give it, and then leave and carry on with their day.

Today I first went to see Mario and Mary. We had a good time, talking about their early years as horse wranglers. I didn’t want to leave – I wanted to keep on talking. But I had two new volunteers, high schoolers, coming in, and I wanted to meet and work with them. This is what I did.

This had to be my most successful volunteer experience ever. The two were smart, enthusiastic, and quick to catch on to what needed to be done. They cleaned books for three hours, until 4:00 p.m. sharp; their scheduled time.

Pete and Robert went and dropped a bookcase off at the Donut King, in Wasilla, and then went and picked up wood that Robert was giving to Pete, and then returned to the hotel. They had bolted out the door with the bookcase and books, and had left a mess after earlier, cleaning books.

Upon their return, I told them that I’d cleaned up their mess. Robert straightened up then left at 5:00 p.m. sharp. Pete then categorized and shelved books for a while.

I was in the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel for another hour and a half. I worked for a while in the literacy annex, sorting books. Then I spent time in the main room putting duplicate books away.

I left the hotel at 7:00 p.m. I did not, as I often do, go and distribute books. I felt as though I’d done enough shlepping for one day. The question that remains is, why do I as a volunteer continue to work as hard as I do? Our consultant, Hilary, once remarked that the organization could be violating labor laws by not paying me for the hours I am working.

Now that I think of it, I may ask the BLBP board for a stipend. I am also going to start doing my own fundraising. Maybe my subconscious will convince my conscience that I am indeed worthy of an hourly wage.

The question that does remain is, what is motivating me to work this hard? Few have even taken notice of this.

Enough of this obsessing. Tomorrow I will clean the house in preparation for my sister Eleanor’s visit. Maybe, in the process of cleaning up, my cell phone, which is once again lost, will surface.

Maybe, this is a very good word. It does not have to be connected to the word hope.

Next: 254. 9/21/25: Equinox