You're on to something.
I was again asked if I needed a basket or box for my books.
Truth be told, I have always had this dislike for baskets – and the idea of hooking one around my arm as if I were some market-going housewife was not appealing at all. Besides, I do not truly know how to properly carry a basket – I suspect I would either keep bumping one onto some unfortunate soul’s face, or having to nursing my own sore arm after.
In any case, I was not about to walk away with 3425 books, so I opted without basket and box – besides, I find it easier to navigate through the narrow, crowded aisles without them.
I miss the rush of adrenaline and the joy that comes upon discovering a hidden gem of a title: one that is nestled among the seemingly unending racks of dusty books made up of all shapes and sizes, peeking tauntingly from underneath the sadly tattered and yellowed covers of another book; one that suddenly jumps out right at you, instantly illuminating everything and everyone around you as though it were gold; one that makes you exude a loud whoop of triumph, where your next course of action is to immediately rescue and whisk it away from its tormented and neglected brethen without even thinking twice.
So it was unfortunate that I had to file today’s visit under… “unproductive”. My loot was made up of pretty much spontaneous purchases, and also the need to complete a series of books – because, well, I cannot not read the subsequent books in the same series after having read the first. (It is already bad enough that I have only books 1 and 11 to the Wheel of Time – and I do not know what to do with them, OCD or not.)
I fear the novelty of book warehouse sales has well and truly worn off. I hope the next one would prove me wrong.
2005: #1 / 2006: #1 / 2007: #1, #2, #3