And not physically. I'm sure I have talked about this before, but apparently it's high season for biblioholics like me, because right now, I. Cannot. Get. Enough.
There are not enough hours in every day to read what I want to read, and that includes my 4-5 hours of reading a day at work. And let me tell you, I keep bringing books home as if by sheer wishfulness I'll be able to get to them all. I just walked across the street to the public library and checked out five more books, and I say more because I checked out four last week. And on Monday I bought three books, and today S should possibly be buying me one more. Some of my favorite authors have new books out, and sometimes at the library, I can't pass up new books (because I only ever take books off the new display shelves. No dirty books for me, thanks.) that were on my list once upon a time, or look really good. I've really cut down my book-buying, I'm sure of it, by visiting the library once a week.
Yay for me. But what that doesn't help with is the stacks of books piled on bookcases and tables, scattered on the floor (I've been trying to organize the myriad books that I've checked out of my own library.), and contained in two separate tote bags. Yes, some of the bookshelves are dedicated to books I've already read. But I do have one whole bookcase full of unread books. (And lest you think that I never get to those, you'd be wrong, as just a day ago I finished The Birth of Venus, which I picked up ages ago as an ARC. As in ages ago when I still worked at a place that had ARCs available by the bushel.) And as much as I read off those shelves, they never seem to empty. Part of it is poor maintenance (I've got gaps where I've taken out books and read them, and never filled them in with new books, because I am patently lazy when it comes to my bookshelves. Organization schmorganization.), and part of it is that one of my favorite authors is always coming out with a new book. And! People, I don't keep romance novels. Reflect on that for a bare minute.
At least two of the books I checked out from the library I've flirted with buying, and one for sure, Love is a Mix Tape, I know I carried around Borders once, intending to buy it. That I didn't is a mark of just how disciplined I've been at the bookstore, and the fact that I've got it now from the library (nearly new! pearly clean!) is like this incredible adreniline rush. Yee-ha, I've cheated the book-buying gods once again. But, and I falter here when I think about this, am I doing it for the enjoyment or because it's like a race: MUST. GET. ONE. MORE. READ. *Pant pant pant*? Most days, it's very clear it's all about me liking reading. (I tried once, on a 15 minute walk to meet some people for lunch, to figure out what it was I loved so intensely about reading, and I can tell you right now that I came to zero conclusions. It's certainly not always the physical book, because I like magazines and blogs and I am happy to give books back to the library after I'm done with them. But then again, there is very little I like more than cracking open a new book and breathing in the new smell, the smell that will be gone in a few days, after my own imprints upon it. And it's not the learning, not always, though I do like that too, and I am crammed full of useless facts that all come from one source: books. It's very possible that it's just the most entertaining thing on the earth for me personally, and that I could give up TV and movies and with a bit of whimpering, music, but I could never, ever part with reading. If that's not passion, what is?)
I think I was in the middle of a thought. Nonetheless, it's very clear that I value reading above most other things in the universe, but when I'm this gluttonous with the reading, I feel guilty and weird, like I'm trying to get away with something. I'm not, obviously. But perhaps the only thing I like as much as books is food, and when you are gluttonous with the food, it is bad. Hedonism is bad when it comes to food. Books? Eh, the jury's out. If you're looking for me, I'll be reading. I can't even tell you what I'll be reading, because the choice is making me indecisive right at this moment.
Do you think I need an intervention?
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