Confessional

I read a lot.

Now, I understand that in terms of vices, this is not particularly impressive.  However, the amount I read is an ongoing joke between me and the Husband, because there are times when I behave... a teense irrationally with regard to my books.  First of all, I read a lot of series books, and become... invested in them.  I become involved.  So, if I am reading Book 1 in a series, and don't have immediate access to Book 2, I might become... upset.  Neurotic maybe.  A little crazy.

But, knowing that I can be somewhat unreasonable in this way, I have made allowances.  I always request a full series from the library at a time, and I work hard not to even START Book 1 if the rest aren't already on my shelf.  See?  Totally manageable. Not crazy at all.

But recently, this particular coping mechanism backfired a little bit when I finished a book much more quickly than I thought I would an the next one hadn't arrived yet.  It was tense, but I managed to just read a totally different book.  And all was well... right?

Well, no.  Because then I needed to have immediate access to ALL OF THOSE as well, and a few books I'd backordered from the library ages ago coincidentally happened to arrive all at once, and so when  went to the library to pick up my holds there were...

26 of them.

TWENTY SIX.

The librarian brought them out on a cart.  They offered to help us out to the car.  Other librarians gathered to gawk.  I thought my husband would die laughing.

So, now we have a bet about whether I can finish all 26 before they have to go back to the library... roughly 6 weeks from now.  Wish me luck!