I had a good time today spending money. I had my annual trip to the office supply store, getting new pens and a notepad and, finally, an accordion file for my receipts, which I couldn’t find last year. I get more enjoyment out of new office supplies than the average person, I suspect. (My mother did, too.)
Then I went to Barnes & Noble, and while I only bought a coin book for the National Parks commemorative quarters, finally, and a new coin price book, I looked at a lot of fiction and poetry. It inspired me to come home and sort through all the books I’ve acquired in the last five to seven years. This is what it looks like now that I’m done:
Someone doesn’t have enough bookshelves. Mind, I have not read all these books. I’ve read pathetically few of them, in fact. I like books, but I have an iffy relationship with reading books. In fact, I created a subcollection on LibraryThing for the books I’ve started and not finished. Y’know, because I wasn’t feeling as overwhelmed as possible by my books already. Eight of them, and they aren’t bad books at all, I just … well … I’m not too hung up on this completion thing, as a character said in a book I read long ago.
So I’ve thought to myself, “I should read more books this year,” which is kinda funny because I’ve also said I should write more music and I should go back to the gym. I should go find that box of all the extra time I know I have around here somewhere. THAT would really be helpful. I’ll let you know how that search goes.