Dear The State Library of Victoria,

I heart you.

I heart your new slapdash cafe that you've thrown together in what was essentially the locker room. I heart that it's cheap and unpretentious and doesn't sell anything "on a bed of lettuce" or "drizzled in oil". I heart that it sells nutella and banana sandwiches and can all be packed away at the end of the day as if it wasn't there in the first place.

I heart that there were two girls eating their own food out of a lunchbox (they were sharing) in your little locker room cafe and you didn't go and arrest them or anything.

I heart that there is still a posh cafe and bar next door where you have to go if you're after a chai or a beer or something drizzled in something else.

I heart the boys who work there and I particularly heart the girl who works there who always looks like she's had a massive night out but she could probably surf a wave or run a marathon if you just gave her the right sort of lycra.

I heart the new system that discriminates against people who make noise by subdividing everyone into categories.

I heart that one of the quiet rooms is the arts room.

I heart that the arts room obviously used to be the outside bit of the library and there is an enormous downpipe that makes a racket when it's raining.

I heart the queue for the free internet that includes a sign at the front of it saying there are more free internet computers in the back room. I heart this particularly because the back room is always virtually empty whereas people in the free internet queue in the front room are confronting internet users for "CLEARLY HAVING BEEN HERE FOR SEVENTEEN MINUTES".

I heart the chess room. Chess!

I even heart your ridiculously early closing time on a Friday night because I am obliged to go outside and experience other people, and dinner, and drinks, and this means my primary experience of the outside world does not consist of a downpipe belting out a banjo-like arythmic overture to the quiet arts room, and me.

It's good to be back.