Twelve hundred has been the number of the summer, the number going into this school year.
Twelve hundred means two new portables partially blocking the view from our circulation desk, numbers five and six in our portable village. I think our campus was built for eight, maybe nine hundred.
Twelve hundred means planning for automobile congestion outside, and pedestrian congestion inside, during transition times of the day.
Twelve hundred means losing instructional time to avoid hallway traffic.
Twelve hundred means four more teaching positions, and moving our meetings this morning from the library to the cafeteria to accommodate our growing faculty.
Twelve hundred means stretching professional materials and kits a bit more thinly.
Twelve hundred means possibly fewer author visits, as I jockey for space and time to provide seating for grade levels of nine or more classes.
Twelve hundred means more doubled classes in the library, more fidgeting with the schedule.
Twelve hundred elicits gasps and worried looks from colleagues, some of whom have been there, done that, with mixed results.
Twelve hundred has this usually optimistic realist non-worrier worried about providing personalized, quality library service to my learning community.
I know that once the school year starts, I will be happier in my element, promoting literacy and matching kids with books and supporting my teachers. I will be so busy that worrying will go by the wayside.
But for right now, the uncertainty is about to do me in.