I'm starting to think I might have a little bit of a problem . . .
Right before the movers came, I went through my stack of unread books (which is rather large but there are always books that sound really good but then I'm never in the right mood to read them) and picked out enough to last me until January when I would fly back to the States. I didn't need any to last me longer than that because after I check into my hotel, Barnes and Noble will probably be the first stop I make in the States (or I might wait till the next day, after I sign for my apartment). The only problem is I can't seem to go more than a few weeks without going to Amazon and ordering more books.
I completely intended to just wait around, and simply add books that sounded interesting to my wishlist or add a star on Google Reader but then I found some books that I needed to have right then and there (I actually even tried ordering a few books for other people as gifts to see if that would help - I'm more concerned with the space issue in my suitcase than money or anything - but ended up ordering some I wanted as well). Basically, it seems that unless I have a stack of twenty books to choose from, I'm not happy. Oops. It's a good thing United allows military passengers with orders three checked bags.
And let's not even talk about how often I let myself get distracted by books. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows came out a week before I deployed. I picked my copy up maybe two or three days before we left, after I'd already put my car into storage and was relying on my boyfriend at the time to get me around. I was going to finally pack up my duffel bags and get ready for the flight but instead spent the entire afternoon reading and had accomplished absolutely nothing by the time he got back from taking care of some of his predeployment stuff(well, I had read half the novel which to me was a rather nice achievement). I didn't want to carry that huge book on the plane with me so I was more concerned with finishing it than packing everything else. Of course, in the end, my stuff and I made it to Iraq (didn't have much choice there) and I didn't have to bring Harry Potter.
I also managed to piss off the same boyfriend when I read The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay (which by the way was picked as best novel of the decade by Pajiba readers). I started reading it the same weekend he decided he wanted to clean his apartment. So I sat on the couch and read while he cleaned. Apparently he thought I should help or something - whatever (I don't even clean my own place - I pay someone to do that). Although I can see where one thing in particular could be frustrating - he started cleaning up the DVDs as well, and got one of them out of the DVD player and handed it to me to put in the case - I stayed on the couch, reading, holding the DVD on one finger until he came back half an hour later and just did it himself - it was a really good part.
I also used to get in trouble with my parents on occasion. I remember when I was reading It, my mom wanted me to set the table, so I put the book down, and put the plates on the table, and went back to the book. Then she told me I'd forgotten napkins so I had to come back, and same thing. I think I had to go back like three times because I was in such a hurry to get back to my book. This happened another time as well and my dad was so irritated he took a novel from me and wouldn't give it back until I finished whatever I was supposed to do.
And it really gets in the way when it comes to gym, too. I like the act of reading so audiobooks just don't really work for me, and besides when I'm working out, I need loud, fast music, not talking. I have no problem going to the gym, sometimes I like it, but I will always choose a book over basically anything else. And you just can't run and read at the same time.
Is there a version of AA for people that are addicted to books?
1 comment:
wow, you do have a problem! But it's good, you should embrace it... haha.
When I was younger, I used to read books under the covers when I was supposed to have gone to sleep. I had thick glasses by the time I was 7 with the power steadily increasing, and my mom had always reprimanded me for reading under covers. One night, it was the last straw for her, and she grabbed my book and threw it on the stove and burned it. I never got to finish it. I fished bits of it out the next morning to try and see the ending. I didn't forgive her for a long time.
True story. When I tell my friends this story, they can't believe it. Most of their parents were begging them to read; mine was begging me to stop.
My only reading problem now is that I read on the subway everywhere, and sometimes miss my stop, which is just a pain in a butt.
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