Atlanta Public Library

I have lived in Atlanta for a whole week. Big city is big. I've had some pretty exciting adventures, already. Our new neighborhood is fantastic. It's beautiful and very bike-able. The homes around our apartment building look like they fell out of a Better Homes and Garden. Ha. Our building is the eye sore of the block, for sure.

I haven't had steady internet, so I've had to mooch at coffee shops and such. Today, I am at an Atlanta Public Library. It is an interesting/scary place. Our neighborhood is very affluent and so the homeless population doesn't hang around (read 'isn't welcome'... not sure how I feel about this. I really like the safety it affords, though. I'm not afraid to walk my dog or ride my bike during the day). Anyway, I mention that to tell about the experience I'm having at the library. Atlanta is kind of like Memphis in the sense that a good neighborhood leads to a bad one pretty quickly. The Library is only two blocks away, but it's the beginning of a more sketch neighborhood. A lot of homeless people have come in to get out of the heat while I have been here. There is a security guard, but she is really just a nap preventer, it seems. There are a few homeless here who seem to be enjoying the reading material, but a fair few have sat down across from me and just pretended to read. At least three have had some sort of psychological disorder --- schizophrenia seems likely. Many of them have also fallen asleep. The librarians and nap guard don't mind their presence, but they don't tolerate sleeping. When someone starts snoring, the guard or a librarian comes and gently knocks on the table they are sleeping at to wake them up. They aren't asked to leave, just to wake up. I think that's pretty civil. The first time it happened, I was afraid there would be a scuffle and someone would be asked to go. The lady in front of me has fallen asleep three times now, but they let her stay. She has three very pretty journals in front of her and has been attempting to read Ezekiel for a few hours, now. She writes something different in every journal in beautiful cursive. I kind of wish I could read what she is writing. I'd ask, but I haven't understood a word that she has said. Also, she growls so I'm kind of scared. Additionally, she has fallen asleep again. The guard just came by and knew her by name. She said, "Ms. Lynn (I think), go take a walk and come back. I'm tired of waking you up." She said it in a whisper with a sort of caring tone. The library is an experience, for sure.