What your chosen library floor says about you
I spend a lot of time in the library. I work, I procrastinate, I procrastinate and I procrastinate.
The Laurier Library has seven floors, and after spending so much time there over the years, I’ve noticed a distinct personality that can be applied to each floor.
Here are those personalities – if you disagree with any of these perspectives, just remember that my opinions are indisputable facts.
Let’s be honest: The only time you’ve been on this floor is when you were new to the library and didn’t know that the second floor was the main level.
Otherwise, this place might as well be Narnia. If you use this floor, it’s because you died down there, so you’re forced to remain there as a ghost. My question is, why were you down there in the first place?
Second floor (main)
So what, you didn’t want to climb the stairs? You couldn’t bear to wait for the elevator? This is your punishment: forced to remain on the most populated floor in the library.
Communal yet lonely, this floor is a mixing pot of those who claim they work better with background noise. At least you have the art gallery; that’s something, right?
Yup, you’re chill. There’s a bit of chatter, but either it doesn’t bother you, you didn’t come here to work in the first place, or you’re chattering yourself. Sure, some of the upper-floor snobs might look down on you, but if you’re on the third floor you don’t care what they have to say. You’re on the third floor, and you know what you’re going to get.
Ah, yes, the fourth floor. The forgotten younger brother of the third floor. Sure, it may seem like it’s an elder sibling on its face but if you dig deeper you’d realize that they’re not the same.
If you come here with a group, there’s minimal work getting done.
There’s a 50/50 chance you either catch someone non-discretely vaping or are someone non-discretely vaping. Even the layout just feels silly. The only reason you don’t go to the third floor is because you want to feel different. I hope it was worth your soul.
Please don’t hurt me if you’re reading this and this is your floor.
You work solo; that goes without question.
You’re serious, you’re studying and you’re scaring me. This floor looks like a serial killer laid it out – organized, but the closer you look, the more you see the chaos spilling out of the shelves.
Don’t explore this floor unless you have an experienced guide. Otherwise, you risk being swallowed whole.
Unironically, the quietest floor.
It is the floor for those who fear the above, silent seven. They have everything it takes to climb that last flight of stairs, but they worry about making a peep.
Thus, they resign themselves to the sixth floor. As a result, you will find Laurier’s most respectful, quietest, and studious students.
As someone who works on the seventh floor, I beseech you – please come up, we need you.
The seventh floor is my floor of choice, and I have noticed a clear trend.
Most of its inhabitants respect the ‘silent seven’ rule, where noise must be kept to an absolute minimum. However, I swear, every time some guy respectfully studies, his buddies show up.
They care not for silent seven. They are talking, laughing, and treating this sacred ground like the fourth floor.
What are the others to do? They move to a different part of the library, act like a stereotypical rickety librarian by asking them to be quiet or just cope with the noise.
So, which floor do you inhabit? Hopefully I’ve made you reconsider your choices.