Some weeks I buy a lot of books. Some weeks I get a bunch in the mail. Either one is frankly wonderful.
Some weeks I just turn around, look at everything sitting on my unread shelves (three big bookcases, quite a bit of it double-shelved, down here in my blogger's basement) and try to estimate how long it will take to read through all of it at my current speed.
(And sometimes I look at those shelves and think about the plan to move some things around that's been in the back of my head for at least three months now. Still hasn't happened.)
The point is: I've got plenty of books. And that's not even counting my access to two big library systems. I have way too much to read at any given moment, and the only real problem is the eternal question of which book to read next. (The more books you have, the harder that question is.)
This week there's nothing new to write about. So I get a brief second of thinking I'm keeping ahead of the rising tide. Next week might well be different.....
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