1) A Start

It is true: I am a book monkey. It is even my name now: Book Monkey. It might always have been. Since childhood (whenever that was) I have been trained to shelve books. Do not ask me why. There must be more useful things for a genius-level simian to do. But a smart monkey is still not human. There is much I am not allowed to do, as society still deems me unsanitary and uncouth. Society must also think I am without feeling, but I feel the resentment when I ask for a cart to be pushed out to the stacks for me. After all, how many of my coworkers have able-bodied friends that could perform all of the duties of this job? But they would have to be paid more than I am willing to accept, and times are tight for employers as well.

Though I'm required, as are all my coworkers, to create this blog for training, I welcome it perhaps more than they, for I have something to say, and I have no other confidant. I feel more than just resentment. I feel love, for someone that works here. But she can never know, because we can never be. If I have done this right she will still not know, and I will feel better for having written it out loud. A genius monkey is still not all that smart a human, though, and instructions sometimes confuse me, and it was easy, but I feel I can only ask for so much accommodation, and this is where my pride has drawn the line. I hope my pride is not my down fall.