Look at it. Look at it.
Pardon my use of bold and italics, but I’m in a state of extreme over dramatics right now, wherein everything I say and do is five times more hyped up than it needs to be. But, even acknowledging that…IT’S JUST NOT FAIR.
This is the third time I’ve checked, in the second local bookstore I’ve gone to, for Cress, the third book in the Lunar Chronicles series, and it’s never there. I just want to know what happens. Please. Please, world, you can’t leave me hanging like this. You have one copy of Cinder left. You have several copies of Scarlet. But never, ever any copies of Cress.
And yes, I could be proactive and say, go to another bookstore that is known for having a wider selection of books. Or, I could, say, order it online. Maybe I could stop writing this blog post and just go to the bookstore online and reserve a copy, waiting the necessary seven days or so for it to come in.
But the truth is, I’m just too lazy. I’ll walk every day to the bookstore looking idly for a copy of Cress, but I won’t take the three minutes it would take to reserve my own copy online. Why is this? Honestly, I’m not sure.
One theory of mine is that since I just *have* to keep checking the bookstore, I get to keep *accidentally* buying replacement books. Seriously. In the quest for Cress, I’ve found myself with Fangirl, The Secret History, Throne of Glass, We Were Liars, Sharp Objects, and Mockingjay. Guys, this is bordering on a problem. I think a big component of it is that right now, I don’t have a library card, because I’m in the process of finding a new library. In the resulting book famine, I just can’t control myself. It’s like I’m Becky from Confessions of a Shopaholic, and I’m filling my head with these awful delusions that if I just keep looking for one book, then the rest of the books I’m buying aren’t actually real. But my wallet says they are real. Oh so wonderfully, terribly, beautifully, achingly real. I know this, and yet I still find myself wondering into the bookstore much more often than I can afford. I guess love really is blinding.
But not literally blinding, you know, otherwise I wouldn’t really need to buy all of those books.
Anyways, at risk of rambling (and I know that I do too much of that as it is–I try to edit my posts down to spare you guys!), let me end this post with a question.
Do you find yourself buying books beyond the point of reason? What do you do to quell the urge to buy, read, buy, and read some more? Or do you just give into bookish lust with the reasoning that skipping dinner every night is just that worth it?