Library=Therapy

The Brian David Mitchell case has been spectacular in so many ways - the good, the bad and certainly the ugly. I've been sending quick missives to a few friends and family outlining my experiences, but as I said before, I'm not going to write too much about it until the court has reached a verdict. Though this has bloomed into such a sensational media story, at the end of the day it is about a young woman trying to move forward in her life, and I don't want to contribute to clogging the blogosphere about it before this story has an ending.

That said, this experience has been very sobering. I can't stop trying to wrap my brain around all the components that lead to the kidnapping and everything that happened during and after. I awoke this morning and found that I chewed through my night guard last night - the one that's supposed to keep me from grinding my teeth in the first place. Normally I would go to the hotel gym and try to exercise the stress away, but I had a little something something removed from my leg last week (benign) and was told "No exercise for two weeks!" by the dermatologist. Boo.

This is where the library comes in.

I had seen it from the outside during my last trip here, but today after court I decided to walk over and do some grading for work.

The Salt Lake City Public Library puts all libraries to shame. Does your library have a double-decker fireplace on each floor?

Does your library have three glass elevators that swiftly glide up the 5 floors? (photo taken from inside the elevator)

Does your library have rooftop photo-ops?

Yeah, mine doesn't either.

As soon as I entered this architectural wonder I sighed a little sigh of relief. I found a great spot with a great view and caught up on some work. I browsed the shelves, people-watched, spoke to librarians.

I had a funny texting moment with my friend Liz where my phone made up words and sent a crazy text (that I didn't check before sending). Her response, "I'm confused, please call me," sent me into such fits of hysterical laughter that I'm sure I looked like THE crazy lady in the library. The laughter was certainly a release from the sobering days I've been experiencing.

I ended up staying for hours, and it felt restorative and right. It was free therapy.