I checked the website and scowled.
Number 88. Really? Who were these 87 people in front of me? I think I needed the book more than they did. My husband is DEPLOYED. Reading is my OUTLET.
“Not fair,” I muttered like my six-year-old and clicked off the site with disgust.
I was checking to see what number I was on the wait list for some books at the local library. The one I checked was for The Fault In Our Stars by John Green. People keep mentioning how good it is so I thought, okay, it’s been out for a bit, the wait shouldn’t be that long.
I’d just BUY the book but I promised Tom I’d cut back. My shelf is STUFFED with books. I have PILES of books. We’re in base housing so we’re running out of room. Then when we move we’re only allowed so much weight and books get heavy when you own like 500+ of them.
And yes, I could buy the book and then sell it, or pass it on, but it pains me to give my books up. I dropped off two large bags of books at the Airman’s Attic once and wanted to cry. I think I frightened the woman when I asked if they’d be well taken care of. She said something like, “They’ll be put on the shelf…??” and then backed away with my beloved books.
So I have to wait. And sometimes the waiting takes forever.
Come on you 87 people. Hurry and read the book.
I am not a patient person when it comes to wanting to read something.
(But I am buying the new Bridget Jones book next month. I did make a promise to Tom, but there are some books I must own. Some women have an obsession with shoes. I have an obsession with books.)