Yesterday seems less good in retrospect.
Afternoon shift at the quiet branch library with another casual co-worker, relieving the permanent staff who were required to attend a formalised Xmas party.
Inauspicious beginning with pre-shift socialising and staff getting repeatedly shushed by a patron (my supervisor and and the person I was on duty with tend to default to loud speaking voices), even to the point of calling the town council to make a complaint.
My supervisor is planning on visiting Portland a couple of months after I will be there, so I brought some information from the river tour I took last time for her.
Observed conversation between colleagues remarkable for touching on so many ways I feel vulnerable to attack. Supervisor joking about herself as trans, conversation joking about furries, about kinky folk and stereotyped attire of same. And of a patron who had complimented my work to a senior librarian, describing me as the woman with the glasses and long hair, which they joked about being an absurd way of interpreting my presentation on account of visibly existing facial hair (in the sense that immediately post shaving it can be seen, anyway).
But I am a little buoyed by the source of that conversation, since it suggests maybe I am doing a bit better at becoming able to present myself in such a way as to be interpreted as female by persons I am interacting with. Not perhaps the centre of my self-esteem, but not either anthithetical to it.
Library itself was expectedly quiet - it is only a couple of not so big rooms - except one span when we actually needed two people at the desk to keep with demand. That has never previously happened when I have been at that location.
At the end of the day when we were closing up, we found that someone had left the stall in the men's bathroom empty but locked. Tried various small devices to unlock it, including coins and pen lids, but ultimately I had to slide under the door to unlock it from the inside.
Had several seconds of worry at nearly getting stuck under the door, including after I'd got it open. Then reminded myself this is not a sitcom and therefore even if we needed to call for assistance to get me out I could just laugh it off.
I got to help some people so it was not all bad. Just disproportionately the non-good incidents are more interesting to talk about.