So like I said before the museum was opened for 100 hours straight. Visitors at every time of the day/night. I only worked about fifteen hours out of hundred, but that was more than enough - people were going crazy. Friday night kids could stay overnight and sleep on the floor of the assembly hall with their parents. I was responsible for taking their data and explaining everything to them, dragging sleeping mats about. It was what the museum called "night of games" and there were children everywhere. My colleagues and I finally left at half past twelve and Oscar drove us home in the pouring rain.
Whenever there's free stuff to be had, whenever there's an option for parents to have their children entertained by other people but themselves, they become quite shameless and impolite. Today Stefan told stories of drunk people stumbling through the museum at night, not being able to stand up straight anymore. It was much more quiet this morning and nobody seemed that interested in using a microscope or writing on old typewriters, so we just sat about and talked about love and the museum. These seem to be the most popular subjects among us. There's something to be said for those random talks, this easy cameraderie of people in their twenties, all stuck at work on a weekend. The other guys read the love-letter I had typed and proclaimed it was the best thing ever. We ate cookies. I drew pictures into my diary with the crayons that were supposed to be used by children for drawing faux-medieval initials. There was no marching band today and the morning passed quietly and peacefully. I went home and finished "Jill".