No, this isn't my 85th book (yet), but a reflection on the Hazel's Bookshelf link off to the right. For the one person who occasionally reads this and doesn't live in my house, this is a real bookshelf. Full of library books. Make that overfull; for the first time I can remember, they're overflowing onto the shelf below (which is double-stacked as it is). I just checked my account online and I have, um, 33 items currently checked out. (Technically, a handful of those have been returned and just not checked in yet, but still.) My 10 year old has more restraint than I do (and yes, she shows every sign of following in her mom's book geek footsteps). When we went to the library Tuesday ('cause that's how any normal person spends the last day of summer vaca, right?), I almost had more books than I could carry. Not more than I could carry home ... more than I could carry around the library as I peeled Littlehazel out of the comic section and slogged over to the self-checkout. (I carried 'em home fine -- uphill, even -- but I do pack a ginormous old backpack and walk so hunched over from the weight that my knuckles practically drag the ground.)
Is there a support group for this?
- Ithaca, New York
- MWF, now officially 42, loves long walks on the beach and laughing with friends ... oh, wait. By day, I'm a mid-level university administrator reluctant to be more specific on a public forum. Nights and weekends, though, I'm a homebody with strong nerdist leanings. I'm never happier than when I'm chatting around the fire, playing board games, cooking up some pasta, and/or road-tripping with my family and friends. I studied psychology and then labor economics in school, and I work in higher education. From time to time I get smug, obsessive, or just plain boring about some combination of these topics, especially when inequality, parenting, or consumer culture are involved. You have been warned.