I'm tired of looking at these piles of books hanging around. I've been tired of it for a while. I've known it'd be a good idea to get rid of them, and it never managed to be something I got around to doing. The wind wasn't right, the moon was in the wrong phase, I wasn't feeling it just yet.
I looked over at the piles again today, thinking I didn't want them there. I've got a lot of books I want to get around to reading someday, eventually, at some point.
Then it hits me, the entire Las Vegas strip's worth of light bulbs going off: The library might have copies of these books that I want to get around to reading at some point. This popular novel. This children's book that got turned into a movie. This breezy microhistory. This poetry collection. All books I want to get around to reading at some point.
It doesn't have all of them, but it has enough that my "for later" list is coming along nicely, and there's a lot of objects that I'm finally getting around to saying my goodbyes to.
I looked over at the piles again today, thinking I didn't want them there. I've got a lot of books I want to get around to reading someday, eventually, at some point.
Then it hits me, the entire Las Vegas strip's worth of light bulbs going off: The library might have copies of these books that I want to get around to reading at some point. This popular novel. This children's book that got turned into a movie. This breezy microhistory. This poetry collection. All books I want to get around to reading at some point.
It doesn't have all of them, but it has enough that my "for later" list is coming along nicely, and there's a lot of objects that I'm finally getting around to saying my goodbyes to.