So I was taking a gander at my followers, which I am pickled tink to say that I now have 4 people who think I might have something that just might be entertaining enough to read. One of them mentioned in their profile that her husband just doesn't understand her love of books. I have found this to be true in my life also. I don't have a husband but in general no one really comprehends the absolute thrill I get from reading books. I bet I am not the only one who feels this either.
My friends give me that "look" a lot. You know the one....that one that says you are one step away from visiting the local nut ward. If you grew another appendage these people wouldn't give you this look. As if my love for the written word was something inconceivable. A third eye could get you sympathy I suppose....but surrounding yourself with books is beyond weird.
Not one of them fully comprehends the contentment and pure joy I get from just walking into a bookstore and taking a whiff of that "book" smell. Come on...you know what I am talking about. Nothing smells quite like it. Even the Starbucks at the local Barnes and Nobel can't mask this wonderful scent.
Picture this....me moving. Me moving with 50 boxes of books. Me moving with help from non-bookies to move 50 boxes of books. At one point one of them said..."Christina....you really need to get a hobby."
Really?!?!?!?! A hobby? Um....wouldn't reading qualify as a hobby? It certainly isn't a chore. Nor is it a job that I get paid to do. Some people think gardening is a hobby. Personally I think this is a terrible hobby. It's tiresome, dirty and hard work. I know a lot of people love it, but I would rather have my bikini hairs pulled out one at a time on a daily basis then garden. But never would I say it wasn't a hobby.
Ok, so there is my story. I know others of you have similar stories too. So share. Or not. Whatever floats your boat. Just remember when in a boat make sure to store your books in water tight containers. Water damaged books are the worst.