As much as I love books, I try to avoid my local public library. Or maybe it's because I love books that I avoid it: I want ALL the books.
The dear goddess knows I have enough to read already, between the several thousand physical books on the shelves and the almost 5,000 more on the Kindle. (Yes, Virginia, it's a sickness.) But Moonlight Murder's review of The Thirteenth Tale was simply too, too, too enticing, and since I had one errand that took me close to the library, I figured what the hell. What's one more book added to the TBR hoard?
The problem with the local library is that their Friends of the Library sale table is actually a whole room. A smallish room, to be sure, but still a whole room. A room with bookshelves and categories and alphabetized-by-author neatness and order, something that appeals to my rampant OCD. In its favor, however, it is also a darkish room, and my bifocal contact lenses tend not to work terribly well in darkish conditions. Dark is okay, but darkish, not so much.
Still, I had to pass through this darkish, smallish room in order to get to the main library, which is why my traitorous fingers, aided by my unfaithful eyes, acquired The City of Falling Angels by John "Garden of Good and Evil" Berendt and The Ghost by Robert Harris. I had read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil years ago, so I was familiar with Berendt, but I know nothing about Harris or this book. It just looked . . . . . interesting.
At 75 cents each, I could afford them. So I took them to the counter where the nice little volunteer lady was waiting to take my money. I told her, "So, 75 cents and 75 cents equals two dollars."
"Oh, no," she said quite seriously. "It's only a dollar fifty."
"Oh, no," I said equally seriously. "It's two dollars. You just can't add."
And we laughed. She took my two dollars.
Then I went into the main library and found the shelf where Diane Setterfield's The Thirteenth Tale should be, but it wasn't. I had already checked availability online and it was supposed to be there, but I saw her Bellman & Black on the next shelf, so I grabbed that, then looked one more time for the other book. Aha! shelved wrong, but there it was.
Okay, so four books wasn't too bad. But while I was at it I thought I'd see if the DVD of Practical Magic was in, since I'm into all this witchcraft research anyway. I could have checked to see if the book was on the shelf -- it wasn't the last time I went to the library -- but I didn't think to do that. Besides, seeing the film version without the book might be a nice change of pace and give me some extra visuals. I was in luck again and plucked it off the shelf. Four books and a DVD represented at least a little bit of two kinds of discipline -- the first in getting myself to the library for needful things (pun intended, of course), and the second in not going hog wild.
I then picked up groceries and dog food before heading home. Chores awaited, of course, but so did texts from the ISO (InSignificant Other). Oh, happy happy, joy of joys! It's Monday Night Football night, and he's going out with some other Chicago-transplant friends to watch Da Bears!
A whole evening in which I don't even have to pretend to be busy! I can just read and watch my movie, undisturbed, uninterrupted, undistracted, and free of the non-stop analysis from the in-house color commentator.
Life is good.