Staying late

As I write this, the back room at my library, which at this time of night should normally hold two or three people, has seven people. As of 20 minutes ago five of them should not be here.

This perhaps is a good time to remind you of one of our great workplace dichotomies:


There are two kinds of people who work at this library: those who try to be here as little as possible, and those who try to be here as much as possible.


Of the five:

One, who is here seven days a week, called in sick and then came in anyway.

One, on his way out of the library, drifted into an impromptu office meeting about things that I feel confident are neither useful nor important.

One is talking to a co-worker that I'm afraid he likes overmuch.

One is... just... here. Like a potted plant.

One is doing many speedy little things, and zipping around, all like she is trying to leave, but can't figure out how.


I could also say:

 
There are two kinds of people who work at this library: those who have somewhere else to go and those who... don't.

Or

There but for the grace of God go I.

Or

Soon enough they will all be gone for the day, and so will I.