Library Life | Gearoidín McEvoy

I am 6 weeks into final year, which means that I have spent a total of 5 weeks and 3 days sitting in the library. I am more than a little stressed right now. Procrastination is around every corner. I’m procrastinating right now, in fact. This article is taking precedent over reading an exhilarating court case about interlocutory injunctions (For your own sanity, don’t google it)I mostly fight the procrastination quite well (Oh, the irony!) and can quickly get my mind back on track as I sit in my nest of books in the corner of Q+2. Therefore, I find it a little more than slightly irksome when I am disturbed from my studies by a third party.In their sublime wisdom, library staff have implemented a clever little noise policy. They have posters dictating the type of zone you are in at any one time. Green zones – you may talk and chat and giggle and be merry in these places. The area where the books are, public computers and some desks are amber zones – basically you can whisper here, unless you’re one of those people who can’t whisper. Those people need to shut the hell up. Finally, red zones. These are the reading rooms. Absolute. Silence.Something about this apparently simple policy is just not resonating with people.So there I was, in the reading room, buried in Equity and the Law of Trusts in Ireland with an expression of both helplessness and panic on my face. I was completely engrossed in Lord Cairns’ and all he had to say, when suddenly a sound jolted me back to reality. It was like the jolt that woke up Joseph-Gorden Levitt, Juno and all their buddies from all those dreams in Inception. I eventually came to and realised what that God awful crunching sound that had assaulted my ears and my focus was: It was a girl. Sitting two seats away from me.Eating. An. Apple.Are you SERIOUS? An apple? Now, I have nothing against apples. Daily, they fend off medical practitioners and they give their name to the software company for whom I am a slave. What’s not to love about the mighty apple? Well, nothing, if you’re not munching on one the size of a child’s head in an area that is specifically dedicate to absolute silence. She must have chosen that biggest, juiciest and crunchiest apple available to her. She was dribbling and slurping all over it. It’s like watching a terrible accident; you want to tear your eyes away, but you can’t. You carry on watching, your face contorted in a horrified expression. Except my horrified expression was sharing my face with rage. I couldn’t decide which urge was most overpowering; the urge to forcibly stop her from consuming her fruit, or the urge to beat her with 900 pages of Equity Law. Weighing up the options, I decided that both would land me in trouble, possible of a legal nature and nobody wants a lawyer with a criminal record. Instead I decided to storm off and allow my fuming nostrils to calm down. Not before I spent a good 3 minutes glaring at her stupid, oblivious, chewing face. I don’t care if she was Pink Lady herself and Smith was her Granny. Eating apples in the reading room is not cool, bro. Not. Cool.Angrily marching through the library, I began to think about other incidents that were on par with the Apple Affair of September 2013. And although recalling these blood-boiling events did little to calm my Apple Anger, I began to comprise a list. The list, as follows, is a set of instructions relating to conduct and consumption of sustenance in a library. I feel like this list is something that should be implemented as binding