With my library job, I've found some misshelved books when shelving, and in a few cases, they were radically misshelved.
The first one was so old, it had no barcodes on it, and the (student) circ worker had no idea what to do with it.
With the second one, it was a "BP" in the "BM"s, and when the same (student) circ worker went to check it in, this notice popped up on screen to send it to a cataloguer, since it had been declared missing.
"YEEEESSSSS!", I was like, doing an air fist-pump, I was so happy.
It's funny how into it I got.
It's almost like I'd lost track of small pleasures like that, what with all the intense work shit in the other areas of my life.
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