So, I’ve noticed, along with my partner, that when I’m in times of stress or anxiety I buy books. The worse the stress and anxiety, the more books I buy. At the moment I’m going through a few things and as a result have a lovely mouth ulcer, but have also been buying books like they’re going out of fashion over the last 8 days.
These are the books I have brought in the last 8 days physically, which doesn’t include the 27 I have also brought online. I know, I’m nuts at the moment. I won’t even go into the book sale I’m going to tomorrow either…
It’s that wonderful feeling you get, when you’re browsing at books, touching them, reading their back covers (or front covers), and that giddy feeling when you’re walking out with a bag (or trunk load of books, yes if you have a look at the pictures of the books I’ve brought this week, you’ll see I brought a trunk load in one visit) that gives you that tickley feeling in your chest and stomach, that sigh of content, and that warm fuzzy feeling of love.
I absolutely adore books. Yes, I have a strange compulsion to buy more than I actually read, but one day I’ll want to read something in particular and I’ll be able to walk into my library and have it. That helps me sleep at night.