I don't need another book.

Etsy

But I want one. 

I live by this great bookstore. And I can't pass it without acting like Carrie Bradshaw passing Manolo Blahnik. 

I have a stack of books to read (packed away for the move), but I can't help it. I want more. 

My Amazon wish list has 18 items and is topping off at over $200. In BOOKS. In my trusty sidekick notebook, I've got scribbles of titles, authors, and publications I need to check out. There are more notes on the backs of receipts crumpled in my purse. 

And yet.

And yet.

I pass a bookstore, my steps slow, my eyes scan the book jackets, and soon I'm standing in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing lustfully at the volumes. 

It's worse if I actually go in.

And I'm in the middle of a book right now. (Alright, two.)

Oh, and btw, no Kindle for me, thanks. I spend enough time staring at a computer screen. Not to mention the fact I like to read in the bath too much and I'm too clumsy. And I can take a paperback to the beach and get it sandy or leave it in the sun. I can toss it in my bag and let the pages get all bent. I can lend it to a friend, or buy a well-worn copy at a used book shop, maybe with someone else's notes or dedication inked in the inside cover. 

And if I do drop it in the bath, I can still read it when it dries. 

Besides, give up the scent of paper and the feel of the pages? I think not.