The truth is, I no longer go to bookstores anymore because I'm unable to say no to the printed word. I look at a book, smell the fresh inked pages, and desire to take it home in my bag. I want to curl up, snuggle down, and absorb every word in between each cover. The winter season is especially conducive to reading with all of the apple cider, hot tea, and coffee. It's a book worm's paradise.
So I have a moral dilemma. Do I deny myself all books or do I just indulge and buy them? I haven't found the medium-ground in there. I would have thought graduate school would have snuffed out my desire for a word or two. Nope.
