The watcher in shelving

Not that anyone cares, but I'd just like to, for the record, set down exactly why, after taking a full cart of non-fiction books up to be shelved, and shelving up there for an hour, I came downstairs at the end of that hour with actually quite a lot of books on my cart. 

I doubt anyone was paying attention to me or my cart. My boss for the day is in one of his pathological moods and avoids even looking at me. My co-workers today are all particularly occupied with their own obsessive little worlds. But still I feel some intangible judgement, like some creeping, Sauron-like eye, and I am compelled to explain, perhaps to it, as amorphous as it may be.

So, please, let me explain then why there are still all these books on my cart:


There were a lot of shelving errors up there! 

It was a mess! Things were totally misfiled! Heaps of books were abandoned haphazardly throughout the 700's! I had to fix things!

Also, someone asked me a question! There was a loud noise I had to check out as a safety precaution! I found some garbage I had to throw away! I had to go to the bathroom! I'm allowed to go to the bathroom, aren't I?

And let me assure you, I barely read any books up there. Yes, I read hardly any books at all. And even then, it was just to make sure they were up to my library's high standards.

Also, I shelved all the books on this cart. 

These? You want to know about all these still on the cart?

These are just the one's I'll be checking out.